The Truth Down Under
by JerichosRiot
Summary: Wounds still gaping after the war, Harry and George travel to Australia to heal. Harry can't help but fall for a beautiful girl who reminds him of someone he can't quite place. While there, Harry runs into Hermione, who disappeared after the final battle with hardly a word. Unsurprisingly, Draco Malfoy's presence complicates matters considerably. DM/HG Harry/OC George/OC
1. Hopeless Healing

**_A/N: I know the last thing I should be doing is starting another one, but I can't resist!  
_**

 _Chapter One_  
 _Hopeless Healing_

"Harry! Harry, wake up, mate! It's just a dream!" a distant voice called out. The thrashing boy on the narrow cot jerked awake with a gasp. Harry Potter's emerald eyes were wide and unseeing as he struggled to catch his breath. The red head perched on the bed tucked in beside his waited patiently for the boy to regain his senses, not taking offense to the lack of acknowledgement. A soft voice murmured reassurances to Harry as he slowly grasped onto reality once again.

"Sorry, I do hate that I keep waking you," Harry apologized sheepishly before sinking back into the bed. He pulled the covers up and over his shoulders and tried not to let the tears loose. A comforting hand on is arm relaxed some of the tension lingering from his nightmare. "It's okay to cry, Harry."

The boy buried his face into his pillow before asking, "Is it, really? It doesn't accomplish anything. And, sometimes, I feel like if I start, I won't ever stop."

"I know, I know. Just trust me, Harry. Don't be afraid to. It doesn't help, no. But there's no sense in putting it off. Just think, we'll be getting away from it all tomorrow. Now get some sleep and we'll talk in the morning, yeah?"

Harry muttered an incoherent response and drifted into a restless sleep.

* * *

"Australia?" Molly shrieked, "What do you two mean, Australia?"

"We're going to Australia, Mum," George restated for his flustered mother. "Harry and I decided-"

"Oh, you two decided, did you? What about the rest of us? How do you think the rest of the family would feel about you abandoning us for who knows how long?" the Weasley matriarch raged.

George remained levelheaded but his temper was rising. Cooly, he explained, "We're not abandoning anyone, Mum. But we need to get away for a while. Harry's had a hell of a-well, a hell of a life so far. The lad deserves a break from it all."

"And you? Leaving your family?"

"Harry's family, too. So him leaving means no more or less than me. And I need to get away, too. I need a break, too," George stated resolutely. Arthur was watching the exchange with bated breath. Ron was stuffing his face, as usual, and Ginny was conspicuously pretending to ignore the whole situation.

"And what exactly do you need a break from?"

"You lot, actually."

Molly's anger faltered, replaced by hurt. George had finally reached the end of his fuse. "I can't bloody take it anymore! Everywhere I go reminds me of him. I can't work in the shop without him. I can't sleep in my own room because it still feels like he's going to walk in the room spouting some ridiculous new idea. Every bloody mirror is the Mirror of Erised for me now! And I can't do or feel anything around anyone but Harry without being worried I'm upsetting one of you. I need to grieve on my own. And maybe that's selfish. I mean, he was your son, your brother, too. But he was my other half, and I can't begin to comprehend what it means to live without that when I've got to be worried about not making you all worried about me."

Molly was spluttering, her face crimson. Arthur appeared to be holding back tears. Ron, with his teaspoon sized emotional range, was avoiding looking at his brother, unsure how to react.

In the wake following George's outburst, the most impassioned display of emotion he'd shown his family since the death of his twin, Harry stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have been an amazing support to me through all of this. I can't imagine where I'd be without you. And that's why I think this is a good idea. I've never been on my own with no one deciding my fate for me. I want to just live. And it's hard to move on when you're still in the middle of it all," Harry explained in a nervous rush.

"So, what? You two have suddenly become best friends now, is it?" Ron cut in. A dark look had crossed over the ginger's usually playful features. He pushed his breakfast aside and rose to his feet.

"No, I mean, with sharing a room we've been-" Harry tried to explain.

Ron scoffed, "Yeah, of course you'd become buddy-buddy as roommates. Especially when the only reason you're sharing a room at all is because one of you is too afraid to go in his own room."

Harry felt George tense underneath his hand.

"Ronald!" Molly scolded. Ron rolled his eyes, not having any of it. "What? It's true! Ever since we got back to the Burrow, he's taken over my role in Harry and my's friendship!"

Harry shook his head. "Ron, no one's replacing anyone. And I don't mind that George has been in my room. I think it's helped the both of us…get through everything."

"I'm here, Harry. I've been here. What happened to talking to me?" Ron demanded to know. Harry didn't have an answer that wouldn't rub the boy the wrong way. He felt that he had relied too much on Ron in the past. He was trying to exercise who he was without using his friend as a crutch. Ron had seen him in enough of his dark times. He couldn't bear the thought of doing it more. And so the first night he had woken George up with one of his nightmares, Harry finally had someone to talk to again. And that night was also the first time someone managed to pull George out of his near catatonic state. It was a strange friendship that occurred mostly in the early, early hours of the morning when nightmares rampaged and loneliness destroyed. And so when Harry had suggested traveling somewhere together, George agreed immediately.

"Ron, I can't explain it. It's just something we have to do," Harry insisted.

"I don't believe this!" Ron bellowed. "First, Hermione goes and disappears without a bloody word and now you? Some friends you two are!"

Harry couldn't begrudge him. Hermione, the minute she was no longer needed following the final battle, had left a note telling everyone not to worry but that she was leaving. No one had seen or heard from her since. It was nearing six months since the boys had found her note. Ron had seen it as a betrayal, but Harry viewed it differently. Every day he understood a little better why she chose to exit the scene in such a way. He was certainly endeavoring to do it himself now.

"You know I don't blame Hermione for that, Ron. I'm sure she's got her reasons for leaving the way she did," Harry reasoned. "She went through more than we know, Ron. You can't blame her for leaving the minute she could. I still can't comprehend how incredibly resilient she is. Maybe she finally realized she didn't have to be strong for anyone anymore. She was tortured and yet she still never asked for a break. So how can you begrudge her for finally letting everything sink in?"

Ron grumbled an unintelligible response. "She still should have told us where she was going."

"You would've stopped her."

"Of course."

"That's exactly why she didn't. And you're not going to stop George and me either. None of you are. We're going to Australia for the foreseeable future. We'll keep in touch, okay?"

With a disgusted sneer, Ron stormed from the kitchen without another word.

"If-if this is what you really want, lads, then go for it," Arthur smiled sadly. He did not wish to see the boys go, but he understood their reasoning. The two of them certainly needed something. Perhaps Australia was that something. "Molly, don't you agree?"

George and Harry found themselves victims of a weeping Molly bear hug. "Oh, just be careful, you two!"

"Of course, Mum," the boys chimed in unison.

* * *

"So, you're really leaving?" a voice questioned from the doorway. Harry paused his packing to take in the female ginger. Ginny sidled into the room, faking curiosity of what he was putting in his bag.

"Yes, Gin, we're really leaving. Can I do something for you?" Harry wondered with a sigh. She pouted, her chocolate eyes meeting his. "I just-I just kind of figured, with the war being over and all-"

With a deep breath, Harry crossed the room and took her hands in his. A lump tried forming in his throat but he choked it down. The couple stared at their intertwined hands in silence, both thinking of the last time they had held hands. "Gin, you mean so much more to me than you could ever know, but I just don't see this working the way it did."

"You can't mean that, Harry!" Ginny pleaded. Harry's heart was begging him to give in. "I do, Gin. I don't think I can give you what you need right now. I need to sort my life out, and it's not fair to make you wait. Maybe in the future, when everything makes a little more sense. But right now, Gin, I'm lost, and I don't think anyone but me is going to help me get to where I need to be."

Ginny shut her eyes and leaned forward to rest her forehead against his. He dropped her hands to run his fingers through her ginger locks one last time. He pulled away enough to place a kiss to her temple before returning is hands to his pockets.

"Good-bye, Harry," she murmured sadly.

"Good-bye, Gin."

Harry followed her retreat from the room wistfully. He hated feeling so conflicted. His heart was screaming to go after her but his head was telling him it was for the better. He was never again going to be the boy she had fallen in love with and it wasn't fair to either of them to pretend otherwise.

"Well, I have to say I expected that to go in a drastically different direction."

Harry jumped near a foot into the air at the sudden voice. George appeared from thin air right behind him. With a glare, Harry shoved the last of his belongings into his bag. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that my sister still fancies the Chosen One," George teased halfheartedly.

Harry let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, George. I don't mean to play around with your sister's emotions-"

George waved him off. "Don't worry about it, Harry. I'm her brother, I should be thrilled that there's no boy in her life. But, mate, I understand. No judgement. Now, are you ready?"

"Australia, here we come," Harry cheered uncertainly as he and George grasped the portkey. "Hope you're ready for two emotional disasters."

* * *

They landed unceremoniously on a deserted beach in the middle of the night.

"Emotional disasters, Harry? Really? I'd say we're quite put together," George began, brushing the sand of his magenta suit. He pulled the younger wizard out of the sand and started their trek to the town in the distance. "I mean, sure, I haven't laughed in months and you've not slept one night through without a nightmare in just as long, but disasters we're not." Harry rolled his eyes at the ginger's cheesy wink.

"Do you suppose we'll find a place to stay tonight?" Harry wondered aloud, his voice fading with the receding waves. George couldn't help but be drawn to the black sea. The two had abandoned their venture into town and made for the water instead. Shoes off and trousers rolled to their knees, the boys let the gentle waves lap at their ankles. The ocean and sky blended seamlessly together for miles and miles and something about the vastness of it all comforted him. They hadn't wanted to feel trapped any longer. The prankster had a feeling that this place was just right for that.

"I should think so," he responded.

"Maybe…maybe we could wait until morning," Harry suggested. George nodded. "Maybe we could wait."

And so, free from everything for the very first time, the two unlikely boys made a fire and sat in awe of the endless possibilities that lay before them, the ocean's lullaby soothing their aches and pains.

* * *

 ** _If you like it, leave me a review to let me know! It means so much to hear from you! :)  
Jericho'sRiot_**


	2. Two Years Time

_Chapter Two_  
 _Two Years Time_

 _ **Six months earlier…**_

Amelia Granger had not seen her older cousin in nearly two and a half years. Once as close as sisters, the girls sat in silence, the unspoken betrayal and plea for understanding suffocating. Amelia realized that it wasn't awkward because there was so much unsaid. She knew it was awkward because it was like her cousin wasn't even in the room with her.

The two years in which they had not spoken had not faired Hermione Granger well.

The once unbearably bossy, bucktoothed, bushy haired brunette had returned out of the blue like a mere ghost of the girl Amelia had grown up with. Sure, there was much she didn't understand about her cousin's life, attending a boarding school in another country made it impossible for them to be as close as they once were. But the unexpected silence from her in the previous years had deeply wounded Amelia.

But to see Hermione now, Amelia knew it was more than the other life she had when she was away at school. What had happened? And why did the rest of the family seem oblivious?

The family had been gathered for their yearly reunion, Hermione and her parents' absence once again noticed but not unexpected. They always had kept more to themselves, the Granger's dislike of Hermione's mother had not inspired the dentists to remain terribly close. All the same, the odd couple and their even stranger daughter's avoidance of the reunion in the past few years was surprising.

So, when the door blew in, bringing with it a warm summer breeze and a ghostly Hermione Granger, the family stared in utter shock. The once out spoken, intelligent girl hovered uncertainly in the doorway, her eyes seeing but unfeeling, cold and haunted. Despite the warmth of May's summer air, the girl shivered. Her extended family remained frozen. Amelia was the first to act.

"H-hermione?" she questioned, knowing it to be her cousin but not daring to believe. The small girl took a few cautious steps toward her cousin. She approached slowly, feeling as though she was coming upon a wild animal she didn't want to frighten. Hermione fit the role of a timid animal well. She looked like one sudden movement would send her running.

When she didn't seem like she was going to run, Amelia threw her arms around Hermione. "Oh, Hermione, where have you been?"

Hermione remained silent but clung to Amelia like she never planned on letting go. She buried her face in the girl's neck and pulled her as close as possible. Amelia felt her fighting back sobs and swayed her from side to side. It felt odd to her. Hermione, two years her senior, had always been the one comforting her. It didn't feel right with the roles reversed.

Hermione felt another presence and pulled away enough to look down. Steven, Amelia's nine year old brother, gazed up at her innocently. "Hi, Minnie," he greeted happily, "I missed you. No one plays dragons with me anymore."

With a laugh that sounded dangerously like a sob, Hermione fell to her knees and tackled Steven with a hug. He patted her bushy curls clumsily and returned her hug quite contently.

"Hermione, dear, it's so good to see you," a kind faced man said softly. Hermione smiled sadly up at her favorite uncle. His wife came to his side and offered her a generous grin. "Now, let's get you fed, darling. You look starved!"

And she did. Hermione, prettier than anyone had ever expected her to be, looked as though she had missed more than a few meals.

The rest of the family had yet to react while Amelia led Hermione to the kitchen. Alone, Hermione finally spoke. "Mi, I'm so sorry," she whispered. Amelia grabbed her hand and squeezed. "I never meant to lose touch. I've missed you all this time."

"I've missed you, too. But Minnie…it's been two years. Where have you been?" she wondered, concerned that whatever her cousin had been up to was not good judging by her haggard appearance.

"Everywhere, Mi. I just-I had to stay away for a while. But, now I don't. And I didn't know where else to go," Hermione answered with a distant look in her eye. Her Uncle Amos appeared and enveloped her in a bear hug. "Well, you're always welcome here, Min."

"Oh, Uncle Amos, I've missed you so much!" Hermione cried, trying to fight back tears.

With a teasing smile, the goofy man sniffed, "Well, doesn't feel like it, love, with naught a word in these past two years, you know?"

"I know. I'm terribly sorry. The, uh, time got away from me," Hermione apologized. "And I completely forgot it was the reunion. I feel awful for intruding."

"Intruding? Min, you are family, whether you've been around or not. I'm sure you had your reasons for staying away," Auntie Amber stated warmly.

Hermione's heart swelled in love for the family she had to leave behind years ago. She knew it was for their safety, but she had adored them and it hurt to not see them.

"Are your parents coming?" Uncle Amos asked with a thinly veiled hope. His face fell at Hermione's miniscule shake of the head.

"I'm afraid they're, um, traveling abroad at the moment. The empty house was too much for me."

Uncle Amos frowned as Hermione turned away from him, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. He couldn't understand it. His vibrant niece had become a mere shell of herself. Her distant and withdrawn behavior was something he had seen before but never on an 18 year old girl. The rest of the family interrupted his thoughts, bursting into the kitchen, questions and accusations flying.

The others were less forgiving of the girl's unexplained absence and were rather put out when it continued to go unexplained. Hermione only responded with guarded and vague answers, seeming to careful gauge her words. Uncle Amos had seen such behavior before. He had seen the haunted eyes, the withdrawn behavior, the nervous shifting, as if waiting for something terrible to happen. He had seen her nearly jump through the roof when Auntie Sharon's cackling laughter cut into the quiet atmosphere. The look of terror in her eyes only held one explanation. But that explanation couldn't make any sense.

Why would his 18 year old niece be reminding him of the veterans he treated in his office day after day? Hermione looked like she had been through war. And one hell of a war at that. He kept quiet, especially when his siblings gossiped about her odd behavior and unexpected appearance. A shared glance with his daughter, Amelia, was telling him he wasn't the only one who noticed.

* * *

Amelia, sharing a hall with her cousin, woke up that night to screaming. Started out of her deep sleep, she rather thought she had just imagined it. But sitting up, she listened, just to be sure. And there it was again. Coming from across the hall. Without another thought, the 16 year old bolted out of her room and into Hermione's.

The screams were agonizing. They froze the blood in her veins, chilling her to the bone. Hermione was tangled in the sheets, thrashing about violently, screaming bloody murder. "No… Fred…Tonks…where's…Lupin…Sn-nape…Lav…" Completely lost as to what to do, she approached her warily, softly murmuring, "Shh, Hermione, it's okay. Hermione, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Amelia gently rested her hand on Hermione's shoulder and her response was instantaneous. She bolted upright, nearly giving her a heart attack, screaming her bloody head off. Gasping for breath, she searched frantically for something until her eyes locked on the petite blonde in front of her.

"Hermione, I-" But she didn't get to finish what she was saying because she burst into tears. She threw her arms around the girl and held on for dear life. Sobs ripped through her body as she wailed, "They're dead. Merlin, th-they're all d-d-dead!"

Thoroughly freaked out, Amelia demanded, "Who's dead, Hermione? What are you talking about?"

She didn't say another word the rest of the night. Her cries eventually died out and she fell into an exhausted slumber. Amelia stayed with her, afraid to leave her alone. What the hell was going on?

In the morning, she acted as though nothing had happened. Hermione had seemed confused to find her cousin in her bed when she woke but only offered a small smile in acknowledgement. Amelia was dying to know what she had been talking about but had no desire to push her.

* * *

The days following Hermione's arrival consisted of valiant efforts on Amos' and Amelia's behalf trying to keep the family under control around the prodigal Hermione. Amelia did all she could to comfort Hermione and to open her up. Hardly any words escaped her cousin's lips, however, and her concern grew.

The constant barbs from the less than supportive family were not helping. Hermione knew her behavior was not exactly pleasant. She was acting as though someone had died. And well, so many had died. So many. But how was she to explain such a thing? It only isolated her more. She felt she was suffocating. So many deaths, so many tragedies. And nowhere to go. No way to understand, no way to be understood. She was struggling to keep it together as it was.

At last, the traditional, all out Granger meal was set to take place. With over 15 members present, the household was buzzing around Hermione. She was numb to it all. Unbeknownst to them, the Gryffindor was planning a silent departure in the middle of the night. Staying put did not seem to be helping, so why not run some more?

"Oh, dears, would you mind setting the table?" Auntie Amber requested sweetly as she entered the room. Hermione trailed after, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around her stomach as if to keep herself from falling apart at the seams. Amelia bit her lip and handed Hermione the plates. Slender, pale fingers grasped them and shakily set them down. She pretended not to see how empty Hermione's hazel eyes were.

Uncle Bill and Auntie Sharon arrived, as usual, right in time for dinner. Their 17 year old twin daughters, Anna and Lisa, sat at the table, lips curled in distaste at their surroundings. Auntie Emma's son and daughter took their seats across from them and launched into a conversation that was terribly one sided on their part.

Amelia watched Hermione from the corner of her eye as she took a seat beside her.

"Hermione, aren't you hungry?" Auntie Sharon questioned.

Hermione jumped at her voice, startled to be addressed. In a small voice, she answered, "Oh, I suppose I just don't have much of an appetite tonight."

"Well," scoffed Auntie Sharon, "I daresay you could do with some food. You're a walking skeleton. Have you become anorexic? So much can happen in two years without any word, you know?"

Amelia's blood boiled.

"Not anorexic, Auntie Sharon, I promise."

She couldn't help but worry, though. Hermione _was_ terribly skinny. Her face was drawn and pale and had hardly eaten anything since her sudden arrival.

"So, Hermione, do tell us. What have you been up to? We're all terribly curious," Lisa insisted with a smirk.

Hermione visibly paled and Amelia noticed her wringing her hands under the table. She was looking everywhere but them. She cleared her throat. "I, um, I've been finishing my studies. And-and getting some hands on experience."

"In what?"

Amos closely watched her formulate a response. "Um, well, r-research and it's, um, implementation, I suppose," she stuttered.

Anna frowned. "How dull. Though, being the bookworm you are, I guess I'm not surprised you'd have such a boring job."

For the first time, the corners of Hermione's lips twitched upwards. With the tiniest, most wistful smile, Hermione calmly said, "Oh, it was anything but dull, I can assure you."

"Whatever you say," Anna scoffed, waving her cousin's words away.

Her grandmother finally stop scrutinizing the girl and asked, "Well, Hermione, certainly there's a man in your life by now. You're not getting any younger, after all."

The weak smile on her lips vanished completely. The color drained from her face so rapidly that Amelia and Amos shared a worried glance. The girl beside her was frozen.

"Ha!" Lisa snorted. "As if someone from that snooty boarding school would be into her."

Hermione jumped up suddenly, startling everyone at the table into silence. Hazel eyes that cried despair were brimming with unshed tears. "I-I'm sorry," she choked out. "P-please excuse me." And without another word, Hermione bolted from the table.

"What a freak," Anna admonished, shaking her head. Lisa agreed as her parents tutted disparaging things about their niece.

No one chased after her. Either because they weren't particularly fussed by her sudden exit or they figured she needed some time. By the time the food was finally served, Hermione slid back into the room and wordlessly took a seat.

"Are you quite done with your dramatics, girl?" her grandfather demanded disapprovingly.

"Y-yes," Hermione whispered.

Her grandmother frowned at her, displeased by her disheveled state. It was obvious to everyone that Hermione had just had herself a good cry. Her cheeks were tear stained, her eyes puffy. The brunette wiped the corner of her eye with the end of her sleeve. "What's the matter with you? I asked a simple question. It's the least you could do to answer after ignoring us the past two years."

"Oh, Nana, isn't it obvious why she's upset? Clearly whoever was dumb enough to date her just dumped her sorry self," Anna explained as if it were obvious. Her grandmother nodded at the explanation.

Amelia watched Hermione carefully. She was absent mindedly rubbing the locket around her neck. She had admired the dragon pendant with awe when she first caught sight of it. She had a sneaking suspicion that the emerald egg the dragon was protecting was in fact a real emerald, though she couldn't say why.

Drawing a shaky breath, Hermione spoke up on her behalf. "While that is an understandable theory, Anna, I'm afraid it's not quite accurate."

"Oh yeah?" she challenged. "Then where is he? If he hadn't dumped you, why wouldn't he be here with you?"

Hermione squeezed the dragon pendant like it were a lifeline, closing her eyes for a brief moment. A single tear slid down her cheek. "I wasn't dating anyone," she murmured mournfully, "but it's just...I l-lost my b-best friend only a month ago. It's been hard accepting that he's gone."

The silence following her statement was deafening in the way that only the absence of sound could be.

Hermione cleared her throat. Her voice wavering as she tried to sound strong, she said, "Now, if you'll forgive me, I'd rather not talk about it."

No one had the heart to say anything negative for once. Amos, hating to know his sweet niece had lost someone so dear to her, he was pleased that at least his family had stopped harassing her.

They mostly ignored her through the rest of the meal. She had retreated into herself again, worse than she had in the three weeks she had been staying with them. Maybe the admission of her lost friend was too much for her to handle.

"Does anyone want any more tea?" Hermione questioned in a flat voice. She received several 'no's' and wandered into the kitchen. The table collectively let out the breath they had been holding in.

"Well, at least that somewhat explains why she's acted like a zombie since she's returned," Lisa observed coldly. Amelia silenced her with a fierce glare.

Nothing could've prepared the arguing Grangers for what was to come.

The table was once again silenced. Only this time, it was the door blowing in and the arrival of a tall, blonde stranger that froze them.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I'd ask you to guess the 'stranger' but I think the story's description rather gives it away. Still, I hope you like it, let me know if you do! :)**_


	3. Lost to Home

Chapter Three  
Lost to Home

The next morning found Harry and George passed out in the sand without a care in the world. The harsh glare of the sun beckoned them awake. George took one look at Harry, the Boy-Who-Saved-The-Wizarding-World, with his signature glasses askew, half his face heavy with wet sand, hair a dirty blonde on the same side, and he let out a bark of laughter.

Harry, unaware of his ridiculous appearance, stared in awe. It was the first time he had heard George laugh since…well.

"Oh, come off it, mate!" Harry scowled playfully, purposely skirting the fact that George was laughing. He didn't want to point it out and set the ginger back a step. His family had a knack for making him feel bad about living life without his twin whether they meant to or not. "You look like you've been through a bloody sand storm, too. Now, let's get clean and find us some food. I don't know about you, but I am starving."

George's peals of laughter finally died down. He lay there, basking in the sun and the sand, ocean before him, and reveled in the foreign sound. It had been too long since he last had a good laugh. It felt less like a betrayal now. He didn't feel as guilty for having a moment of happiness.

"I reckon you're right, Harry. We'll have to fend for ourselves now that we've not got Mum's cooking," George agreed. "And then we can ask about a flat."

With two muttered _Scourgify's_ , the sand free boys finally finished their trek into the quaint little beach town. It was hardly any larger than Hogsmeade, though there seemed to be considerably more people. Neither minded, though, as they were all blatantly Muggles. Harry reckoned it would be good for him to immerse himself in Muggle culture for a while. Magic had left him a little scarred in more ways than one. Back to basics was just what he needed.

They entered a café on the corner called Quarry Bay Café. Judging by the few maps in the café windows, Harry took it to mean that the beach they had spent the night on was named Quarry Bay.

A squat woman with a weathered face grinned widely at them and ushered the friends into a nearby table. "Alrighty then, lads. What'll it be for ya?"

Harry had to stomp on George's foot when he tried to order a Pumpkin Juice. "We'll have two waters, please," Harry said politely.

When the waitress disappeared into the kitchen, Harry scolded George. "I know you've never been in the Muggle world, but you have to know some things about it. Namely, no pumpkin juice, no Firewhisky, no Pumpkin pasties or Cauldron Cakes, okay? And mate, I never thought I'd be saying something like this, but…we're going to have to work on a new wardrobe. At least for while we're here."

George looked down at his magenta suit with a frown. It clashed magnificently with his red hair and freckled skin. So magnificently that the few other patrons in the café were turning to look. It was hard not to notice a lanky, 6'2'' ginger sporting a magenta suit in a small beach town in Australia. George and Fred together had always been noticeable, but even alone, George still demanded attention whether he meant to or not.

"I suppose you're right. Look at me, getting fashion advice from the Boy-Who-Lived. How did Trelawny not see _this_ day coming?" George muttered under his breath as the waitress brought their drinks. She took their orders and promised to return soon. When she brought out their breakfast, Harry stopped her before she left.

"Excuse me, miss?"

She smiled kindly down at him. "It's Helen, dear."

"Helen," Harry echoed, "My friend and I, we're looking for a place to stay. Do you know if there are any flats around for rent?"

"Oh," Helen said, her round face lighting up, "If it's a flat you need, I'm the one you want to talk to. There's a two bedroom flat upstairs that I've had for rent for a few weeks now. My husband and I own the café, you see, and we used to live up there, but we've finally bought ourselves a house of our own. If you boys are interested, I can show you when you're through eating?"

The boys nodded eagerly, not quite believing how easy that had been. The followed the woman up a narrow staircase at the back of the café. It opened up into a fair sized sitting room with a kitchen separated by a half wall. There was a hallway with three doors. The first one was a bathroom and the other two were decently sized bedrooms. The walls were painted in bright, exotic colors, and the furniture was all neat and tan. It was home at first sight.

Without talking it over, both boys agreed to take it simultaneously. Helen laughed at their unison. "Well, I'm glad you like it. And with two bedrooms, you boys could have a whole guest room," Helen suggested with a wink.

At her words, Harry and George shared a confused look. Realization finally dawned on them, and they stumbled over their words trying to clear things up.

"No, no, Helen! We need both rooms. George and I, we're not a-a-a couple! We're just mates," Harry rushed frantically. The gray haired woman just smirked at them, saying, "Okay, okay, I believe you. I guess I'll leave you to it then. The place is yours."

After Helen retreated down the stairs, Harry attempted to make a list of all of the things they needed to get. George was useless. He couldn't contain his laughter. "But Harry, we'd be such a cute couple! Could you imagine? I can see it now. 'Golden Boy Harry Potter and George Weasley, that's right, not the Weasley you might've guessed, share how their clandestine love came to be. Priceless, Harry. Merlin, that's brilliant."

"Are you quite finished?" Harry drawled, unimpressed by the jokes. He didn't want to be thinking about his love life. Not one involving Weasleys of any kind, female or male. George sobered up shortly after and the two set to work fixing the small place up to their liking.

"I can't believe it's only been a day and we've already been taken for as a gay couple," George sighed as he sank into the couch. Harry claimed the recliner in front of the television. George had demanded to be told what it was, but Harry didn't quite feel up to giving his new flat mate a lesson in Muggle technology.

"It seems odd not to believe something after the unbelievable things that have happened in my life, but I agree. I can't wrap my head around it. There's only one Weasley I've ever been romantically involved with, and she was most definitely female, thank you very much."

George pretended to gag. "I know we're mates, but that's still my sister."

"Sorry, sorry," Harry apologized sheepishly.

A peaceful silence fell over them, both reveling at their new place.

George, never much comfortable with too much quiet, broke the stillness. "Um, mate, what do we do now that we're actually here?"

"Hell if I know. I thought you had ideas," Harry said.

"Nope. I just wanted to get away. I didn't actually think about what I would do once I got there," he admitted with an indifferent shrug. "Might take a nap."

Harry chuckled at that. "We've just come all the way to Australia and your grand idea is a nap?" he asked incredulously.

The Boy-Who-Lived resisted the urge to check for a second head with the look George was giving him. "What?"

"I just would've guessed that someone in your shoes would take every advantage to be lazy after all you've done these past years," George admitted.

"I'm not one much for naps, thanks," Harry said shortly, running his fingers through his hair. George frowned, and, in a voice far too serious for the prankster, said, "Harry, you can't avoid it. You have to sleep sometime."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, unnerved that George was so aware of his fear of sleeping. He had lived in a constant state of exhaustion since the war had ended. The daytime was nightmarish enough without the terrors that came when he was asleep. Harry had become a self-imposed insomniac if such a thing were possible. He only let himself sleep for a few short hours throughout the day because he could only take so many nightmares at once.

"I think I'll go ask Helen what there is to do around here," Harry said flatly. George shook his head as Harry trudged down the stairs with his head hung.

"Oh, there he is, Andy!" Helen's voice hit Harry as he made it down the last step. A man with a golden brown tan and midnight black hair raised his head up at the sweet woman's exclamation. Helen rounded on Harry and towed him over to the man behind the counter. "This is my husband, Andy. Andy, honey, this is one of our new renters, Harry."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Harry greeted politely, holding his hand out to shake. Andy grabbed it and shook it with such enthusiasm that Harry had to right his glasses when he was done. "What a polite young man, Helen. Did you hear that? He called me, 'Sir'. Sir!"

"Don't mind him, dear, he's a clown," Helen said with a grin. "What can I get you?"

"Just a Coke, please." Harry collapsed onto one of the barstools. He gulped it down thirstily. When Helen came back with a refill, she was about to leave him but turned back to the troubled boy. His brow was knit in a thoughtful expression, his eyes seeing something not there.

"Harry, what brings you and your ginger friend here to our little town?"

The corner of her lips tugged downward when she saw him let out a deep sigh. "I've, um, been through a lot in the past few years. I'm just trying to figure out who I am now. And I made George come along with me."

Helen felt her heart cry out for the boy. He seemed so lost. Hoping she wouldn't upset him too terribly, she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. His emerald eyes gazed up at her sadly but appreciatively. "Harry," Helen murmured softly, "It's all over now. He's not coming back."

The young wizard's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "I-I, you mean-how?"

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. For everything. Now, if it's figuring out who you are, I daresay you've come to the right place," Helen said sincerely.

"You're a-a witch?" Harry whispered in disbelief. He had meant to get away from the magical world.

Helen gave him a secret smile. "I'm afraid you'll find one of us wherever you go, Harry. I assure you, no one will bother you here."

Feeling a little better, though still reeling from the fact that their new landlord was a witch, Harry climbed the stairs to his new flat.

George was sprawled across the couch, long limbs scattered about haphazardly, snoring away contently.

Harry smiled to himself.

* * *

The two former Gryffindors settled into a simple routine rather quickly. They explored a little of the town in the following weeks but spent most of their time at the beach. Harry, never having had time or opportunity to swim, practically lived in the crystal blue waters visible from his bedroom. George went for long hikes into the rocky cliff side beside the beach. The townspeople paid them little attention. Helen was intent on fattening the skinny boys up, her husband, Andy, doing his best to rein her in. The boys were flourishing in their new surroundings.

Harry, however, had been friends with Hermione Granger for far too long for him to be oblivious. Though George was known to smile fairly often now, wooing all the Aussie girls with his wolfish grin, Harry knew not all was right. The ginger still refused to prank anyone, hadn't invented any new gags, never spoke of England, and never mentioned Fred. He sometimes left sentences unfinished, as though he were waiting for Fred to finish them as he always had. And perhaps saddest of all, their entire apartment had only one mirror. In Harry's room. He pretended not to notice that George avoided all mirrors like the plague.

Harry had experienced the heartache that accompanied a glimpse at the Mirror of Erised, the longing so intense that it nearly killed him. And that was for people he himself did not remember in his own memories. He knew his parents only through the echo of others' stories. But George lost not a friend, but his other half. The one that completed him. Harry couldn't imagine looking in every mirror and feeling something a thousand times stronger than that.

So, no, things didn't suddenly better themselves because they had relocated. Harry knew in his heart of hearts that George was never going to get over the loss of his twin. And he had a strong feeling that George already realized and accepted that. Harry still suffered from crippling nightmares and struggled to find peace. After so long on edge and on the run, he found it immensely difficult to just simply be.

"I think you were right, mate. Australia was a good move," George said upon apparating into the sitting room. Harry nodded in acknowledgement. "This pasty red head has just signed up for, wait for it…surfing lessons!"

Harry choked on his water. George slapped him enthusiastically on the back. "Surfing? You?"

"Yes, me," George cried, pretending to be wounded by Harry's doubt. Letting the silly vibe go, George sobered up and explained, "I need to find something to focus some of my time. I'll probably be dreadful, but it's worth a shot."

Harry thought this was progress. He only wished he was making some too. Proud of George, he said so. As usual, George played the sentiment off. "That and also the highly attractive girl that is going to teach me didn't seem put off in the slightest by my one earedness. She called it ' _knarly'_."

"That's nice, George," Harry sighed.

"You might be the world's savior, but I, sir, am ' _knarly'_. Take that, Harry Potter."

* * *

Back in the Burrow, Molly Weasley nearly fell off her chair when she caught a glimpse of the family clock. For the first time since Fred's death, George's hand had moved. It was no longer lingering on 'Lost'. It now read 'Home'.


	4. Under the Tree

_Chapter Four  
_ _Under the Tree_

"Dammit, Granger!" an angry voice bellowed as the door steadied itself. Everyone at the table whipped their heads around to take in the fuming blonde young man standing in the doorway. "Where is she?" the stranger demanded of the slack jawed people at the dining table. No one answered him. Nor did they have to. The shattering of a glass was all the answer he needed.

Hermione had just entered the dining room with a mug of tea. But at the sight of the blonde, her dead eyes ignited and the mug fell to the floor in her shock.

The stranger's tensed body relaxed visibly at the sight of her, but his anger did not ebb. "Damn you, Granger," he fumed, advancing across the room. "Did I not tell you to wait for me by the Whomping Willow? I mean, if you meant to say no, you might've told me rather than leading me on this month long goose chase."

Hermione still hadn't moved from her frozen state. He seemed not to have the patience for her lack of reaction. "Well? What have you got to say for yourself, you crazy bint?" he raged.

Finally, she spoke. "Y-you're n-not dead."

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Dead? Of course I'm not dead, you-" He cut himself off when he actually took her in. Her breaths were fast and shallow, her eyes wider than the moon and brimming with tears.

"Hermione?" he wondered softly, taking a hesitant step toward her.

In a blur of movement, she nearly tackled him to the floor. He staggered under the sudden weight of the girl, but he righted himself before crashing to the floor.

"You're alive! Oh, sweet Merlin, you're alive!" she sobbed into his chest.

"Of course, I'm alive, Hermione. What gave you any doubt?"

"After, well, after, you know, I went to find you. And you were nowhere to be found. Your parents were being rounded up and your mother was screaming. She was saying, 'No, not my boy! He can't be gone!' And when I asked what she was on about, everyone who knew what you looked like that night said that they'd seen Greyback make off with you into the Forbidden Forest. And I couldn't find you anywhere, so I believed it to be true."

The blonde pulled her impossibly closer, one hand on the small of her back, the other tangled in her hair. His eyes were shut tight, as if he were savoring the feel of her against him, like he thought it might never happen again. "Oh, Hermione, love, I'm so sorry. All this time, you thought I was dead? I can't even-I couldn't-oh Merlin. Greyback _did_ have me, but I fought him off. He turned tail and ran when Aurors came to help. I blacked out and, as I was still in disguise, no one knew it was me till early the next morning. Only to have Longbottom tell me you left the minute you could with no words as to where you went. I thought you changed your mind."

Hermione frantically shook her head. "Of course not! But so many people didn't make it that night, and to think that you were one of them…I had to get out of there as soon as possible. I couldn't take it any longer. And this is the only place I had left to go."

Positively beaming down at her, he cradled her face in his hand, brushing away her happy tears. Just as he was about to speak, Auntie Sharon reminded them of their audience.

"Hermione, what on Earth is the meaning of this?" her shrill voice shrieked. Startled, Hermione jumped away from the boy. He wasn't having it, though. The blonde slipped his fingers into hers and remained close to her side. Amos felt a conflicting emotion that can only belong to a father figure. The adoring look the young man was giving his niece made him swell with happiness that someone loved her so much and yet, also had him planning his best, 'You hurt her, I hurt you,' speech.

"Pardon my manners, madam. My name is Draco Malfoy. Terribly sorry about my entrance, it's just-I've been looking for Hermione for quite some time now," Draco Malfoy explained politely.

Her family could only continue to gape at the two. The transformation that Hermione had undergone at the sight of him indescribable. She, well, blossomed. Her pale cheeks darkened ruby red with a heartfelt blush. Her deadened eyes twinkled happily once again. The slumped shoulders had squared themselves confidently, a brilliant smile splitting her face.

"Well, son, come on then. We'll set a place for you," Uncle Amos cut in, trying to break the tense air. The two teens hardly noticed it, too busy smiling goofily at each other to care. Even as they sat, Draco taking a place to her right, Hermione couldn't keep the look of utter amazement off her face.

Amelia didn't mind being separated from her cousin, not when she saw how happy this unexpected boy made her. She felt a bit nervous around him, though. He held such a refined, regal air without even realizing it. It was hard not to find him intimidating.

"So, um, Draco, was it?" Amos double checked, "You're friends with our dear Hermione? How did you meet?"

So, apparently everyone was going to gloss over his startling entrance. That suited Draco just fine. "We met at school."

"Ugh, you're from that ridiculous school, as well," Lisa scowled, irritated that such a handsome bloke seemed so into her cousin.

"If by ridiculous, you mean the most highly respected and prestigious school of its kind, then yes. Precisely the one," Draco suggested with a sickly sweet tone. Hermione stifled a giggle at Lisa's shocked face. "We met when we were 11, but we didn't become friends until we were about 14."

"This one here was a right little git," Hermione teased happily. Draco rolled his eyes but didn't deny it. "But I grew up, didn't I?"

Hermione's eyes melted to a soft caramel. "That you did," she agreed.

"And I apologize for my entrance. You see, we were supposed to meet…about something rather important, I might add," he stated with a meaningful glance to Hermione. She blushed and bit her lip. "But there was a misunderstanding, evidently, in which we both assumed the worst. So, I was rather put out with her, I'm afraid. It was terribly rude to burst in like that, but I admit that our friendship has never much minded manners."

No one seemed to have anything to say to his eloquent apology. "By your accent, you're clearly not from Scotland. Where do you call home?" Auntie Amber asked conversationally. Neither she nor her husband understand why the two teens stiffened.

Draco glanced worriedly at Hermione before clearing his throat. "Well, I've just come from my villa in France, thinking Hermione had gone there. She mentioned it once and I thought I'd have some luck." Lisa and Anna's eyes widened at the casual mention of such wealth. He was not boasting about it, merely telling his story. "But, my family has lived in our manor in Wiltshire for the past several , I must say it hasn't felt like home in a very long time," he finished softly with an apologetic look at the brunette beside him. Amelia was the only one to notice him reassuringly squeeze Hermione's hand. It was fairly obvious to her that the mention of the boy's home was particularly unpleasant to Hermione.

"How did you manage to find Hermione, then, son?" Amos asked curiously. Draco sighed, deliberating his answer. "Well, as I said, I assumed the worst when she failed to show up. I reacted rather… poorly. I threw myself a spectacular pity party. Then some…friends gave me a good kick in the arse and agreed to help me find her."

"Who?" Hermione wondered.

Rosy patches colored his pale cheeks and he avoided her curious gaze. "I thought they were terrifying with their pranks, but nothing is more intimidating than those two gingers when they're serious."

Hermione's jaw dropped in astonishment. "Weasleys?"

"I must say that not all of them are as useless as I had once thought," Draco admitted, finally turning to look at her. She shook her head, disbelieving. "I'm sorry. Who? What-how-"

"The remaining twin-I was terribly sorry to hear about Fred, I always liked the twins-and the She-Weasel. Apparently, they're much more observant than your other friends. They were insistent that it had been a mistake. They were the only ones you told about leaving. And they weren't sure where you'd gone, just that you were looking for family. Three weeks later, and here I am. You're rather difficult to find, you know?" Draco explained calmly.

"George and Ginny? And you?" Hermione repeated. "That's…unexpected."

"They've known the whole time, actually. That's how they knew to come find me," Draco informed her. With a thoughtful look, he mused, "Not really sure how they knew...they never told me now that I think about it."

"But how did you find this house?" Auntie Sharon finally joined in the conversation, in awe that her plain Jane niece had such a handsome, wealthy boy chasing after her so determinedly.

"Well, I knew where Hermione lived. I didn't think she would be there, but we tried anyway. When we arrived, no one was there," Draco paused and sent Hermione a sad smile. Her grin had faded somewhat, her eyes troubled. "But we could tell that she _had_ been there. And we saw a calendar on the kitchen table that had 'family reunion' written on it with an address. And here we are."

There was an awkward pause as they soaked in his words. Then, Steven, known to be painfully shy, quietly asked, "Did you say your name was Draco?"

The blonde smiled nervously at the boy. "I did."

Steven's chocolate eyes widened. "Did you know that 'Draco' means dragon?"

Hermione's heart melted when Draco offered her young cousin a brilliant smile. "As a matter of fact, I did. I was named after the constellation."

"Do you like dragons, too, then?" Steven wondered excitedly.

"Do I like dragons? Of course! They're incredible. My personal favorite is the Norwegian Ridgeback, naturally, but guess what. Did you know that Hermione here actually rode one?" Draco whispered dramatically, looking about as if to make sure no one could hear them. Steven was enraptured. Hermione couldn't believe how casually Draco was interacting with her Muggle family. It nearly brought tears to her eyes. Again. Steven looked to her in awe. "That's right. She's crazy, huh? Hopped right on a Hungarian Horntail. Nasty dragons, they are."

Hermione shook her head, looking as though she were about to deny the story. She surprised them both. "No, no. It was a Ukrainian Ironbelly, boys. Honestly, Draco, get the facts right."

Draco beamed at her unabashed by his sappy behavior` while Steven went nuts. The adults smiled in amusement, recognizing the newcomer's gift with kids, not for a moment thinking he was telling the truth.

"She's the only one who will ever play dragons with me, you know?" Steven claimed solemnly. Draco frowned, "Well, that won't do, will it? What do you say, Hermione? Shall we give him a brief history of dragons tonight?"

"Sounds delightful."

"Excuse me, young man," an elderly man interrupted. Draco looked to him curiously. "You seem awfully sure of yourself. This is a family event that you are interrupting, and I don't appreciate your presence. Once this dinner is done, I expect you gone."

Draco's happy grin fell, his grey eyes darkening. The deadly mask he had worn as a Death Eater returned. The family felt a chill fall over them at his icy demeanor. "With all due respect, sir, I don't give a damn what you think. I can honestly say that I have been through hell, as has Hermione, and we've only just become free of it. I have fought the devil himself to be able to sit here beside her, so, quite simply, where she goes, I go. And if that means she intends to stay here, so do I. I'll be damned if were torn apart again."

The two men, young and old, glared defiantly at each other.

"If you would excuse us, we've got a lot to talk about," Hermione bade calmly. With a light grip on his arm, Hermione pulled Draco out of his seat. She quickly led them from the room. He followed her silently to her temporary room. Once inside with the door shut, the two relaxed.

Hermione launched herself into his arms again and he breathed her in.

"Oh, love, I thought I'd lost you," he whispered sadly. He felt her shake her head. "Draco, I thought I had lost you. As in lost you to death. You can't know what it was like, thinking you dead."

"But I'm not. We don't have to worry about that anymore. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to," Draco promised fiercely.

"I don't want you to go anywhere," Hermione murmured, gazing up at him fondly. He seemed nervous suddenly, and she frowned. "What is it?"

"The Whomping Willow. Why we were supposed to meet there. You remember, don't you?"

"Oh."

"I never got my answer," Draco said slowly. "Would you have shown up? Would you have met me under the tree if you'd known I was okay?"

Warms lips hesitantly pressed against his own. His heart had begun healing the day they became friends, but in that moment, he felt the last broken shard stitch itself back together. She pulled away quickly, chewing her lip nervously, her cheeks blazing red. "Really?" he breathed, "Do you really mean it?"

"I want nothing more than to be with you, Draco Malfoy. So, yes. I would have shown up that night, had I known. That's all I've wanted since fifth year," Hermione admitted shyly. She let out a surprised squeak when he suddenly swooped down and kissed her the way he'd been dying to for years.

* * *

 _ **A/N: What do you think? I hope it's not confusing. Their story from Hogwarts will eventually be explained, don't worry. Just know that they were secret best friends from 4th year on. Hope you liked it, your reviews make my day! :)**_


	5. Starlight on Earth

_Chapter Five_  
 _Starlight on Earth_

Harry and George had indeed settled into the peace of living the small beach town life. Despite Harry's reservations, George had miraculously taken to surfing like he'd been doing it all his life. His instructor, an incredibly fit blonde, had a sense of humor that matched the ginger's. At least, the sense of humor he had before. She wasn't oblivious, that much Harry had learned when they were first introduced.

"What was he like before?" the girl asked Harry blatantly when George had wandered over to collect their drinks from Helen. Rebekah, or Becs, as George called her, startled Harry with her question. "Sorry to be blunt, but it's rather obvious something terrible happened. I can tell he used to be really funny, really lively. But it's like he starts to tell a joke or starts to laugh and then cuts himself off as if he's doing something wrong. What happened to him?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably at how accurate her suspicions were, but at the same time respected the blonde. "It's not my place to tell you, really. But you knew that. And you're right. He was funny. He was a legendary prankster at school, then turned it into a business. But he lost…someone important to him. And he feels guilty moving on."

The two, an unlikely pair, one in a plain gray t-shirt and dark jeans, the other in a tye-dye bikini top and white sarong wrap, watched the ginger at the counter thoughtfully.

"You're helping him, you know?" Harry told her seriously. Her jade green eyes widened in surprise. "How? I hardly know him."

"I think he needs to learn it's okay to laugh. And from what I've seen, you're funny as hell. I'm rather dull company in comparison. I don't really know how to make him smile. And who would've thought he'd be so good at surfing?" Harry had to add a half-hearted line at the end having opened with such a heavy truth. Being around someone as solemn as himself wasn't the worst atmosphere for George, he knew, but it certainly wasn't the best either. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable telling you all this, but I want to thank you for what you're doing for him."

Becs nodded slowly, her eyes serious. "Well, then, I'll try to keep doing it."

"Doing what?" George questioned curiously as he presented them their drinks. With a laugh, Becs said, "Keeping your clumsy self from drowning, of course!" George's face suddenly matched his hair. "That was _one_ time, Becs! One time!"

"Save me! Merlin, whatever the hell kind of expression that is, there's a shark! He's got my foot! My foot, I tell you! One ear and one foot, gone, poof!" Becs cried in a girl voice as she could make. "Shark? Try a jelly fish sting."

Harry was in stitches.

George sulked as he slid into the booth beside her. "Mean one, she is, Harry. I'll have you know those jelly fish are quite painful."

"You're such a baby."

"I was merely concerned about losing another appendage," George muttered with a shrug, put out that they were laughing at him.

Becs rolled her eyes. "Don't you know that girls have a thing for scars? Down here, tell a girl that your ear is in the belly of a shark and she'll all but throw herself at you."

A mischievious gleam lit up George's eyes. "Why, Becs, do you mean to tell me that I forgot to mention that my _ear is in the belly of shark?"_ When she gave him a flat look, he huffed. "You said she'd throw herself at me. You lied."

Becs ruffled the 20 year old's hair with a smirk. "And it might've worked had you not told me a different story of how you lost it every time we surf."

"Gotta keep the ladies guessing," George chuckled.

Harry was terribly amused. "And remind me, George, how did you lose your ear?" he asked, biting back a smirk. It was a terrible memory, in truth, but Harry thought it a good sign for George to be joking about it.

"Glad you asked, mate. I can finally clear it up once and for all," George said graciously with a wink, "I was minding my own business at the zoo, you see. Took my little sister to see the tiger exhibit. She's terribly fond of them. Crazy little minx she is, doesn't she go and push me into their pen. So, there I am, face to face with two hungry beasts. They're growling something fierce, and I think, 'Well, it's been a good run'. They keep growling until I feel something rub against my leg. And wouldn't you know it, there's a little tiger cub purring away as it tries to get my attention. The parents calmed down, and I bent down to pet the little guy. He's loving away on me, licking my face like a dog. At this point, I'm thinking, 'I've done it. I'm one of them now', envisioning my life as an honorary tiger. And then the little bugger goes and bites off my bloody ear!"

Harry was in hysterics when George's story finally reached an end. Becs rolled her eyes, knowing by now not to get her hopes up about hearing the true story. "What? It's the truth!" George exclaimed, by all means appearing to be serious. Truthfully, Becs didn't mind being lied to. It was rather entertaining hearing the strange English boy's outlandish stories. She figured it wasn't her place to really know, and that the truth would come if he ever decided it was.

Once she excused herself with a promise of meeting George on the beach the next day, the boys watched her go. When her curly blonde hair disappeared around the corner, Harry simply said, "Good for you, George."

* * *

A week later Harry, George, and Becs made plans for lunch followed by a stroll through town. George was pleased to have gained a new friend and that Harry seemed to like her. He wasn't sure why he was surprised that Harry kept to himself, but nonetheless, the boy wonder had yet to befriend anyone other than Helen and Andy. He saw to it that Becs came around more often, happy that Harry seemed to come out of his shell more and more.

"Hey, I've got to stop by the board shop, Red," Becs piped up when the trio rounded the corner. It was funny to Harry. He'd moved halfway across the world and still ended up part of a group of three that consisted of him, a ginger, and a girl. Seemed he couldn't get away from it all after all this time. The thought brought a smile to his lips.

"You haven't been there, yet, Harry," Becs observed. "My best friend's family runs it. It's a board shop/grocery store/book shop/whatever the hell else they decide to put in it. They're rather eccentric people, her parents. You'll love it."

Harry believed her, not having anything better to do and trailed after the two of them.

An outburst of musical laughter tore Harry's attention away from George's dramatic retelling of his morning surfing at the beach. Becs rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm but smiled quite contently. Harry, figuring his presence wouldn't be sorely missed, found himself in search of the laughter's owner.

It was not a long adventure for he simply rounded the corner of the last row of shelves and spotted her.

Her hair was the first thing to catch his eye. It was waist length, pin straight, and so brilliantly white blonde that Harry's striding legs came to a dead halt. It was radiant, like starlight on earth. She was crouched on the ground, rubbing the stomach of an Australian Cattle dog. The rhythmic thumping of the enthusiastically wagging tail matched Harry's heartbeat as he cleared his throat.

The girl jumped to her feet, startled at the interruption. "Oh, terribly sorry, sir! He just has a puppy dog face I can't resist." Her apology came in a breezy accent, a blend of English and Australian. It was just as melodic as her laugh, but Harry hardly noticed. The moment her storm grey eyes met his the entire world froze.

Those eyes. He had seen them before. But he couldn't have. He had never seen this girl with starlight hair and storm grey eyes. Even so, she felt hauntingly familiar. He supposed it might have been the waist length blonde hair that briefly made him think of Luna.

Harry must have stared at her in shock for a touch too long because her million watt smile faded and an eyebrow raised in question. She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. A faint blush colored her alabaster cheeks. "Can I help you?"

Harry finally unfroze himself and shook his head cursing his odd reaction. "Er no, sorry. It's just-have we met before? You seem so familiar to me it kind of startled me."

The blonde frowned, her delicate pink lips curling downwards, her head tilted slightly to the side. "I can't say we have, sorry. I'm Cassie. You are?"

Harry hesitated before holding out a hand. "Harry."

His heart fell to his stomach when her slender pale hand grasped his. The tingles that used to run up his arms when he touched Ginny couldn't hold a candle to the electric waves that jump started his heart. Her grip was firm and warm and gone in an instant.

"So, Harry," Cassie smiled brightly, "What brings you down under?"

He didn't feel like telling her the same stupid story he had made up for everyone else who had asked the same question. Before thinking it through, he replied, "Well, a friend of mine and I decided we needed to get away for a while. He just lost his twin last year and I've had some…rough years. But we've decided to put all of that behind us and start fresh."

Her innocent eyes widen measurably and Harry wanted to curse himself for answering her light question so heavily. Cassie offered him a sad smile and quietly said, "Well, Australia is certainly the place to do just that."

He found himself resting his arms on the counter between them and leaning toward her. Harry took in her slumped shoulders and distant eyes. In a low voice, he observed, "It sounds like you're talking from experience, if you don't mind me saying."

She raised her gaze up from the floor in surprise. Not usually so easily seen through, she wasn't sure what to do about her apparently crumbling front of placid contentment. "Um, well, y-yea. I am. A-and I don't mind. It's just not something I ever talk about."

"Well," Harry drew out while trying to formulate his next words, "I'm around, you know, if you ever do."

The smile he received in response was so breathtaking that it almost hurt.

"I'm done with my shift in half an hour," Cassie stated shyly, glancing at Harry to see if he would take the hint. She eyed the boy over approvingly. Cassie had never been one much for mystery but that was precisely what he was. He was confident yet a shyness was still present, as if his self-assured nature was only recently come by. His emerald green eyes were just as intriguing. They seemed haunted yet so full of hope and wonder at the same time. She found it hard to look into them yet harder to look away. His raven hair was tussled in such a way that she knew it wasn't intentional but rather untamable.

Cassie rather liked the boyish grin that spread across his face. He drew himself up to his full height which, she noticed, was not much taller than her, and wondered, "Well, if that's the case, I don't suppose you'd be willing to discuss our woes of life over dinner?"

He took her rosy red cheeks as a yes.

* * *

"Blimey, Harry, how did you manage to get a date with her?" George wondered in awe. "Mate, she's gorgeous!"

Harry beamed, not caring if he was acting like a blushing schoolgirl. "She is, isn't she?" he agreed. The two had taken over a bench outside the small shop and were not so subtly staring at her through the dusty window. Well, George was anyhow. Harry was staring dreamily out at the ocean front.

George raised an eyebrow in question when Harry's happy expression deteriorated suddenly. The ginger nudged him in the ribs gently. "What's wrong, mate?"

Harry shifted in his seat, afraid to meet George's eyes. "You aren't…mad, are you? About Ginny?"

"Harry James Potter," George scolded him like a child, "If you ruin this date with that beautiful girl because you think I'll be mad it's not my sister, I will throttle you, Boy-Who-Lived be damned."

At that, the tensed boy let out a rare bark of laughter. "I knew you'd be good to have around, George."

Beside him, George was beaming. "I know, I'm the life of the party wherever I go. But seriously, Harry, I'm not going to hold it against you. I know Ginny's mad, but I get it. Obviously, or I wouldn't even be here with you. If anyone deserves time to just simply be, it's you. And if she can't understand that, then, her loss."

Becs chose that moment to make an appearance, exiting the shop with a bag tucked under her arm. "Potter," she greeted seriously. Harry started. Even though he knew she had no idea what that name usually meant to him, he couldn't help but be unnerved. "You hurt my best friend, and I will make sure that the shark that didn't actually eat George's foot eats all of you."

George guffawed at her threat, and Harry gulped.


	6. Always the Pessimist

_**A/N: Hey, guys! I'm so sorry about taking so long to update. Finals were brutal but I made it through! So, hopefully being on break will give me time to write more for you! Enjoy!**_

 _Chapter Six_  
 _Always the Pessimist_

The young couple simply delighted in each other's presence. For the first time in years, neither had a care in the world. They had been thrown into hell and in a miraculous feat, they had emerged from it together. Draco was drowning in love for the witch in his arms and Hermione's very being sang at his touch, his love.

Unfortunately, Hermione's extended family was not so joyful about the reunion. Despite the clock nearing midnight, her family was wide awake, pacing the living room and ranting about the unexpected guest.

"It's outrageous!" Auntie Sharon cried. "This-this boy quite literally blew the door in and raged until he saw Hermione. Who does he think he is?"

Lisa piped in quite readily, still sour that such an attractive boy was so desperate to find her boring cousin. "It must be that school of theirs. That weird boarding school must produce all kinds of strange characters."

"Such a rude young man," her grandfather added with a disapproving scowl. "Disrespecting me in my own home."

"Actually, Dad," Amos cut in brusquely, "I believe you'll find that this is, in fact, my home."

Amelia silently cheered on her dad, pleased someone was standing up to everyone else. "I mean, didn't any of you see how she came alive when she saw him? Clearly it was the friend she had talked about losing. You all saw how upset she was and then a few minutes later she finds out he's alive! It's incredible!"

Seeing that his daughter was fuming and clearly not getting through to her relatives, he threw a suggestion to her. "Why don't you go see how they're doing, Em? See if they need anything."

With one final, fierce glare at her family, Amelia made her way up the stairs and to Hermione's temporary room. Not hearing a response when she knocked, she shrugged and pushed the door open.

"Hermione, are you okay? I-oh. Oh my, sorry, sorry!"

Draco and Hermione sprung apart at the sudden entrance of a flustered Amelia. The young girl blushed fiercely as she tried not to openly gawk at the couple that had just been tangled up with each other. Hermione's red cheeks matched her cousin's while Draco couldn't be anything but utterly delighted. The girl of his dreams was his. The Slytherin wasn't about to be embarrassed for celebrating the fact.

"My dad just sent me to check on you. He was worried," Amelia explained in a flat voice. She eyed over the heavily breathing pair and finished, "Though it seems you're doing just fine."

"Amelia!" Hermione exclaimed incredulously at her teasing. Amelia winked back. "Hey, it's true. You seemed pretty fine."

Draco cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I never got your name."

Amelia blushed under Draco's intense gaze. "Oh. I'm Amelia. Minnie's cousin. Her favorite cousin, I might add."

"You may not add," Hermione cut in with a laugh.

The younger girl beamed at Hermione before turning her attention to Draco. "I don't know you. But you make my cousin happy. So...I approve."

"Well, I wasn't expecting anyone's approval...but thank you. I appreciate it," the Slytherin said in a subdued awe. Hermione patted him on the shoulder and looked to her cousin sheepishly. "So, how mad are they?"

"Livid," Amelia chirped happily.

"Excellent," Hermione exclaimed. Draco turned to Hermione in surprise. "I always knew there was a little Slytherin in you," he remarked fondly.

Before she could respond, her uncle appeared in the doorway. "Hello, kids. I figured with it being so late you should stay the night, Draco," Amos said. "I can show you to your room."

Draco nodded gratefully and made to follow Amos. A small hand grabbed his arm. He turned back to Hermione with a reassuring smile. "I'll be right back to say goodnight, Hermione," he murmured, daring a kiss to her forehead in front of her uncle. Hermione let out a sigh of relief. Having him out of her sight didn't sit well with her after worrying for so long that she might never see him again.

Amos wordlessly led the blonde down the hall. They fell to a halt in front of a green door.

"And you'll be staying in this room over here, son," Amos said to Draco, opening the door for the boy. The blonde didn't hear a word. Hermione was standing in the hallway outside her room telling a story to Amelia quite animatedly, and Draco was staring longingly past Amos, silver eyes never leaving her small figure. Amos fought back a smile. The utter adoration in the boy's haunted eyes when he saw Hermione was blatant. He cleared his throat, drawing Draco out of his stupor. He smiled apologetically.

"As I was saying, this is your room," Amos repeated. Draco's face flushed scarlet when Amos smiled knowingly and said, "But I think we both know if I come check during the night, I'd find you in another room."

"I-I-sir, I would-" Draco spluttered in a very uncharacteristic manner. Amos just chuckled and clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It's fine, son. I understand. I shouldn't be telling you I would approve of you sharing a room with her, but I've never seen my niece so happy as when she saw you. She won't tell me what she's been through, and I get the feeling that I wouldn't be able to understand even if she did. It seems you understand what's been happening to her, though, so I appreciate you cheering her up. If you try anything funny, though, I will have the pleasure of ending you, understand?"

Not one unfamiliar to thinly veiled threats, Draco nodded solemnly.

"If I've followed correctly, you're the friend, right? The one she thought was dead?" Amos questioned, just to clarify.

"I am. We've been friends since we were 14. And a little over two years ago we both admitted that we'd rather be more than that. But there were some pretty substantial obstacles in our way, and we realized that we should get through them before we started anything. When it was finally okay, we were supposed to meet if we still wanted to be together," Draco explained in a low voice. Amos knew there was much more to the story but decided he wasn't up to hearing it. "But you didn't because she thought you were dead."

"Precisely," Draco agreed. "I cannot tell you that I never actually believed a day like this would come, sir. I'm afraid I'm the pessimistic one of the two of us. And I promise I will never behave in a way that would result in losing Hermione. I couldn't bear it. Not after everything that's happened. Good night, sir."

"Good night, Draco," Amos nodded before making his way down the hall. He didn't have to turn his head to know that the blonde was quickly striding toward Hermione's room.

The brunette witch beamed when she opened her door to reveal Draco. He offered her a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. I just can't be away from you yet," he admitted with a shrug.

"Good. I would've snuck into your room if you hadn't come to mine. I'm rather reluctant to let you out of my sight, Draco," Hermione murmured, pulling him in and shutting the door behind them.

"As am I, Hermione," he agreed.

They stood in the middle of her room, silent, just holding each other. She could feel his heart beating against hers and suddenly felt that everything could be okay. Maybe not right away but eventually. She could make it through with him at her side. He was just reeling in the fact that she was finally his. Draco breathed in her strawberry scented hair, the smell that lulled him to sleep on even the darkest nights in the manner.

"I want you to tell me everything, Draco. What happened to you during the…the b-battle. How you got away. What you've been doing," Hermione finally said. Draco heaved a sigh. "How about we just enjoy tonight. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. I promise I will tell you everything in the morning. I'm afraid I would just fall asleep on you tonight."

"I suppose you're right. Let me find some blankets for you."

Ten minutes later, Hermione had donned her pajamas while Draco had transfigured his outfit into a simple white shirt and sleep bottoms. He perched himself on the edge of her bed, catching the blankets and pillows she tossed at him. She helped him pile them into a makeshift bed on the floor.

Once finished, Draco settled into his nest on the floor beside Hermione's bed. With a murmured good night, Hermione turned out the lights. The two lay in the dark, reveling in the sound of the other's breaths. Draco's heart raced when he felt Hermione's hand searching for his. Her arm hung over the side of the bed, her fingers entwining themselves with Draco's.

"Draco?" she whispered softly. "I'm so happy you're here."

His heart hammered in his chest.

"I didn't know what I was going to do without you…"

Draco kissed the back of the hand that was clasped tightly onto his. Without a word, he raised himself up into a sitting position. In the darkness of the room, her eyes reflected the moon peeping through the open window back at him. She gazed at him evenly. Leaning forward, Draco pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. He rested his forehead against hers. "Neither did I. Let's never have to find out, okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

Amos peaked his head into Hermione's room late that night. He was not surprised to find Hermione's young gentleman friend in the room with her. A small smile spread across his face as he took the two of them in. Both completely asleep, Hermione was curled up on the edge of her bed, one arm hanging down to hold Draco's hand. Both teens had a sleepy smile on their lips. It was such an innocent, content scene that he felt it a privilege to have witnessed it.

* * *

"I distinctly remember you being in the bed when I fell asleep," a gravelly voice observed. Hermione's only response was snuggling closer. Draco had yet to open his eyes, but a brilliant grin split his face. He was quite content to hold Hermione closer to him. Cocooned in the delightful warmth of the mountain of quilts Hermione had bestowed upon him in the night, tangled quite wonderfully with a sleepy Hermione, Draco had never known such happiness.

"You remembered right," Hermione mumbled into his chest. "But I woke up a few hours ago and couldn't resist. You're cute when you're sleeping."

Draco kissed the top of her head, ignoring the curls that tickled his face as he did so. "I never thought we'd be here, Hermione," he admitted softly.

"What? On the floor of my cousin's guest room at my family's reunion?" she asked innocently, knowing full well what he meant.

"Granger, you know what I mean," he said sternly. "I never thought we'd get to be together."

Hermione shifted her body so she could gaze up at him and lightly teased. "You always were such a pessimist."

Draco frowned. "Not without good reason, and you know that. I always wanted this, but you have to admit the likelihood of it was not great."

"I know. But it's too late now. I'm afraid you're stuck with me," Hermione said with a pleased smile. Draco pulled her closer. "I can think of worse things to be stuck with."

There was a peaceful silence for a few moments before Hermione shattered it with something neither wanted but rather had to talk about. "The battle. What happened? They said G-Greyback dragged you off."

Draco heaved a great sigh. "Well, I was dueling Rabastan, not that he knew it was me, of course. The disguise fooled everyone but that filthy werewolf. He could smell it was me. I didn't know what happened. One minute I was dueling my uncle, the next I found myself being quite literally dragged into the Forbidden Forest. I could hear Greyback muttering to himself the whole time."

Hermione gasped suddenly, bolting upright. In her haste to sit up, Draco fell back, startled. "Merlin, Draco! Did he-he didn't-are you-" Hermione couldn't formulate the most horrible thought that hadn't occurred to her until just then.

Draco, suddenly understanding her distress, sat up instantly. He could already see the tears brimming in her hazel eyes. "No, no, Hermione," he rushed, reaching up to cradle her face in his hands. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

"So," she choked out, to worried to be relieved yet, "You're not a-"

"Werewolf?" Draco finished. "No."

Hermione's shoulders slumped forward in relief. "Oh thank Merlin."

Draco pulled her into his arms and coaxed her back down. She looked so fragile as he pulled the blanket back up to her chin. "But how did you manage to get away without…"

"He was under strict orders from my father," Draco explained, the corners of his lips curling downwards. Too relieved to be shy, Hermione pressed a sweet kiss the corner of his mouth. A Malfoy smile was rare, certainly something she hadn't seen in nearly a year. She never wanted to see anything but a smile on his lips ever again. "He wanted Greyback to take me away from the castle. Away from the fight. Those were his orders once my father realized I was fighting against him. But he must've been sworn not to turn me. All he did was torture me and foul me up. No scratches, no bites. Though, he made it very clear he would have liked nothing more. Some Aurors were rounding up the last Death Eaters when they…heard me," Draco finished in a quiet voice. The two were both uncomfortably familiar with the Unforgiveable favored by Voldemort's followers. Both had suffered at the cruel clutches of the Cruciatus curse.

"Anyway, I blacked out as soon as I heard them coming. When I woke up, it was already the next day. The day we were supposed to meet. I got to the Whomping Willow, and I waited for hours. But you never showed. Like I said last night, Longbottom told me that you vanished without a trace. I thought-I thought you didn't want me anymore. That you changed your mind."

"Never," Hermione said fiercely. Draco's troubled face suddenly turned into a wolfish grin. Without warning, his lips came crashing down on hers.

A few blissful moments later, the young couple pulled apart, breathless and giggling like the carefree children they had never gotten to be. When they finally calmed down, Draco amused himself by playing with Hermione's curls. "What next, Hermione?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've found you. The war is over. What do we do now?" he wondered thoughtfully.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, not sure how to bring up what she wanted to do. "No, no, none of that now. You tortured me enough in school with that lip biting madness. What is it?" Draco laughed, urging her to speak up.

"My parents."

Draco's fiddling with her hair paused. "You found them? Already?" One glance at her forlorn expression gave him his answer.

"No, but I have to find them. And reverse the memory spells if I can," Hermione replied in a quiet voice. "W-what about you? What are you doing next?"

The blonde rose to his feet, pulling the girl up with him. "Hermione Granger, if you think I'm going anywhere or doing anything without you, you're bloody mental."

Happiness blossomed inside her, spreading a delicious warmth throughout her body at the sincerity in his tone. "You mean you'll come with me?"

"We're going to find them, Hermione. _We_ are going to find them," he insisted. With a typical Malfoy smirk, he added, "As if you could get rid of me now, Granger."

* * *

 _ **A/N: It means the world to me when you leave a review! I love to know what you're all thinking!  
~Jericho'sRiot~**_


	7. Woes in Life

_Chapter Seven  
_ _Woes in Life_

George was too busy rejoicing his last go to notice the tremendous wave sneaking up behind him. His board, attached to his ankle, was floating on the water a few feet from him. Becs, too busy laughing at the ginger's ridiculous boasting, noticed the wave too late. "George!" she cried.

The boy turned just in time to catch a glimpse of the wave that engulfed him. He had no chance of fighting the vicious waters, not as off guard he had been. As the waves tossed him about below the surface, George faintly heard a gruff voice in the back of his mind barking, "Constant vigilance."

When the waters calmed, George's ginger head popped above the surface only to go right back under. "Desist, woman! I can't breathe!" George gargled under Becs weight. So relieved to see him surface a mere yard from her, she tackled him with a relieved hug, sending them both under the surface.

Laughing delightedly, Becs swam away from him. George, not one to be bested, called after her. "The English shall not be defeated on this day! Long live the queen!" he bellowed playfully before lunging after her. It was a frantic race to the shore. Becs had grown up in the ocean and refused to be bested by a lanky English git. George, on the other hand, really just didn't want to lose to a pretty girl.

In the end, it was unsurprising Becs who made it onto the sand first. With a dramatic flair, George collapsed onto a blanket of golden sand at her feet. "Merlin, you're like a bloody fish! How do you swim so fast?"

Beaming, the curly haired blonde nudged the boy with her toe. "Haven't you figured it out, yet Red? I'm a mermaid!"

"No, you're no mermaid. They're nowhere near as pretty as you. And they're rather violent, as well," George disagreed immediately. Becs raised a questioning eyebrow at his serious tone. "Uh, okay?"

Realizing his mistake, George distracted her by jumping to his feet and slinging her over his shoulder. She shrieked indignantly as he bounded up the beach. "You idiot, Red! The boards! We can't leave the boards!"

With a disheartened sigh, George fell to a halt and set the girl on her feet. "Sorry, I forgot ab-ow! Hey, you wretched minx, get back here!" he cried after she shoved him into the sand. She ran back to where they had left their surf boards, her girlish giggles floating back to George. He smiled contently, flopping to the ground. When Becs returned she found the 20 year old in a ridiculous act.

"Red, what on earth are you doing?" she questioned in amusement.

George paused. "Can't you tell when a man is making sand angels? Goodness, you can't interrupt something like that. Now you've ruined it, help me up," he scoffed.

Rolling her eyes, something she found herself doing with an increasing frequency around him, Becs pulled George to his feet. "Now what?"

"Shall we go spy on Harry and your friend?"

Becs was overwhelmed by the ginger's mischievous grin. "Lead the way."

* * *

Harry paced nervously outside the shop. He had no idea what he was doing. The confidence that had gotten him this dinner date came from somewhere that he didn't even know existed. It was like the Harry that failed at asking Cho Chang out had never been real. For a moment, he felt like it wasn't even himself that had plucked up the courage to ask her. He was many things-stupidly reckless, a bleeding heart, loyal to a fault, but never that. Never one to just ask a girl out so smoothly.

But when a blushing, brilliant blonde exited the shop and offered him a nervous smile, Harry found he didn't care. All that mattered was that he had asked her, and she had said yes.

"Hey, Harry," Cassie greeted shyly, coming to stand beside him. "Cassie," he said in a matching tone. "Shall we?"

The two walked toward the Quarry Bay Café, one of the few places he felt truly at ease in his new town. Harry had debated if taking her there was a good idea, as he figured Helen would make a spectacle of it. As he opened the door for Cassie to enter, it was too late to turn back.

"Ah, Harry, dear! How are you?" Helen cried when he caught her eye. Noticing the pretty girl at his side, she shot him a terribly conspicuous wink. "And who's your pretty lady friend?"

Before Harry could respond, Cassie let out an exasperated sigh. "As if you don't know who I am, Helen."

Helen let out a bark of throaty laughter and gave the girl a hug. "It's good to see you, hon. It's been so long!"

"It's been three days," Cassie corrected flatly. Seeing Harry's bewildered expression, she explained, "Sorry. Helen is my mother's best friend."

"Oh."

"I see you've met my new renter, Cassie," Helen observed with a wicked smile. Harry very much regretted bringing his date there. He worried it would be over before it started.

"New renter?" Cassie echoed. "So it's you who's living upstairs now. I've heard about you. You and your friend…"

"George."

"Right. Anyway, Helen. We'll take a seat in the back?"

Harry was relieved to finally sit down.

"So, what are your woes of life, then, Harry?"

The boy nearly choked on his lemonade. Cassie frowned and reached over to pat his back in concern. He was grateful that she wasn't directly across from him, afraid she would too easily see the dread that filled his eyes. "Sorry, sorry. It's just-you don't beat around the bush, do you?"

Cassie shook her head apologetically. "I'm afraid not. You said we were here to discuss our woes. What brings you to Australia?"

Harry mulled the past few years over in his head. "Well, I'm afraid to say there's quite a bit. Do you really want to know?" The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off. He was startled by the serious gleam in her stormy eyes. "Harry," she began softly, "I find that people start out by introducing themselves in the best light. Whether it's by painting a pretty picture of their life or themselves, it all hides the truth. The truth of a person is the most important part, don't you think? They save the real stuff, the raw, risky parts of themselves until they're so far in that they become afraid to share it in fear of losing the one they've hidden them from. I find that this weighs you down. So why not start with the hard parts? Bear the worst and then you'll never be afraid to share the good. It's open and honest and real. And then you'll know from the start if it's worth it."

To saw he was at a loss for words was a gross understatement. Harry merely gaped at her in awe. Her eyes twinkled at him, welcoming him to tell them every part of him, the good and the bad. Pulling at the collar of his shirt, Harry gave her a nervous smile. "Well, then," was all he could think to say.

"Sorry for laying that on you, but I've never been one for small talk," she apologized, for once regretting her blunt words. "It's just-with what I've learned from life, it seems so frivolous. A waste of time to 'beat around the bush' as you said. I was once taught that feelings and emotions were pointless. Weak, even. And I've learned time and time again how wrong that is. Now, I have a hard time hiding them, as you can probably tell already. I'm afraid I'm making a fool of myself. Am I?"

Cassie watched in wonder as the corners of his lips ever so slowly curled themselves upwards into a brilliant smile. "No," he said gently, "You're absolutely grand."

"Really?"

Harry leaned forward, his emerald eyes gazing into hers with an emotion she couldn't quite place. "I've spent the past several months pretending to act the very opposite of what I felt. If it won't scare you away, I think I would very much like to be honest with you, Cassie."

He hardly knew the girl, but he accepted that he already wanted to kiss the pale pink lips that curved into a crooked smile.

* * *

"How's it going? Can you hear anything? See anything?"

"Hush up, would you, you great ginger oaf!" Becs cried quietly, whacking George in the arm. He grinned innocently at her. "I can't hear anything with there being a wall of glass in between us, idiot."

"Then, let's go inside and eavesdrop," George suggested as though he were talking to a particularly dim child. He rubbed his arm indignantly after an expertly executed punch from the surfer. They stealthily, or so they imagined, entered the café and seated themselves in the booth beside Harry and Cassie's without notice. With Harry's back to them and Cassie only seeing a glimpse of orange hair she wasn't quite familiar with, they were golden. Becs and George shared a devious grin.

"So, let me get this straight," Cassie said slowly. "You were raised by your horrible aunt and uncle after your parents were killed in a car accident. You lived in a broom cupboard under the stairs until you were eleven when you got accepted into some fancy boarding school. You met two wonderful friends, caused a lot of trouble, messed with bullies, etc. Then your godfather, who was thought to have been a mass murderer escaped prison, found you, convinced you of his innocence, and went into hiding. And then you're friend was killed in front of you the year before your godfather was also killed. And the past several years you've been running from the man who killed both of them because he wanted you dead. But now he's dead. And you're in Australia. Did I cover everything?"

George, like Harry just hours ago, choked on his drink. Becs rubbed his back soothingly. "Merlin, he didn't hold anything back, did he?" George muttered under his breath.

"Did all that really happen?" Becs wondered with wide eyes. George nodded solemnly. "And then some."

Harry's voice cut into their serious moment. "Pretty much. Do you regret asking me to tell you everything?"

There was a silence for a moment before a small voice answered. "Not at all."

"Well…good, then."

In the next booth over, Becs had forgotten all about their plans to eavesdrop. Instead, she was concerned for the boy next to her. George had buried his face in his hands, his shoulders hunched. Frowning, she placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. "You okay, Red?" she questioned in a low whisper.

She jumped back, startled when he whipped around to face her. His chocolate brown eyes were wide and frantic. His chest was heaving, his hands shaking. "What did you just call me?" he demanded.

Becs could only stare at him. This was so far from the boy she had gotten to know. She hardly recognized him.

"What did you call me?" he repeated.

"I-I-I called you Red. Like I always do," she stuttered.

George paled visibly and gulped loudly. "O-oh."

"George?"

"I have to go, Becs. Excuse me." Without any warning, George bolted from his spot beside her and fled the café. Behind her, she heard Harry's exclamation. "George?"

Dazed from George's unexpected behavior, Becs took longer than she cared to admit to acknowledge Harry calling her name. "Harry?"

Green eyes searched her stricken face. "What happened? What's wrong with George?" Harry asked worriedly. She could only shake her head.

"Cassie, I'm sorry. He's my friend, and I-" he tried to explain to a confused Cassie. To his surprise, she was shoving him out the door. "Come on, Harry. You've got to find him! He looked really upset."

A respect for the girl flooded through him. Nothing meant more to him than his friends and family, and it chuffed him to bits to know that she understood that about him already. He darted after George with a promise to return.

Harry found him on the beach. The blinding pinks and oranges that accompanied the setting sun set George's red hair on fire. Harry approached him quietly, standing beside his friend. George was staring absently out at the ocean, his eyes seeing something far different from the breath taking view before him.

"She calls me Red," George said finally. Harry nodded in acknowledgment. "She was whispering to me today. We were eavesdropping on your date, of course. She called me Red, but that's not what I heard, Harry."

Harry suddenly understood. "You thought she called you…"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Harry. What the hell am I doing?" George wondered, his voice breaking. He finally turned to face Harry. "I'm a horrible brother. I've been living in my own fantasy land, one in which _he_ doesn't exist. Harry, I can't even say his name!"

Harry was aware of another presence near them, but he ignored it for the time being. "George, you're not a horrible brother. It hasn't even been a year. You can't expect to be able to cope with it already."

"But every day I wake up and he doesn't feels like a betrayal, Harry! How am I supposed to live when everything I love reminds me of him? I can't even look at myself anymore! He's gone and I'm not and I can't even hear his name without losing it. What kind of life is that?" George bellowed. Harry put a hand on each of his shaking shoulders. "George, it's the kind of life that Fred would never want for you."

Harry held his friend close as he fell apart at the seams.

As George sobbed in his arms, Harry finally acknowledged the presence he had felt earlier. A sheepish, teary eyed Cassie hovered a few feet away. She was truthful when she had earlier said she didn't hide any emotion. She didn't even know his friend and yet there she was crying with him. Harry couldn't help but hope this day would mean a new beginning for all of them.

When George finally calmed down enough to stop his tears, he pulled away from Harry sheepishly. "You're-you're a good mate, Harry."

"You're welcome, George," Harry said, knowing that it was George's way of saying thank you. "Fred would want you to be happy, you know? That's what you would want for him, right?"

"Right," George agreed resolutely.

"Exactly."

George wiped his tear stained face, letting out a small chuckle. "Oh, he'd never let me live this down if he were here."

Harry grinned. "You know he wouldn't."

George cleared his throat, finally noticing the blonde mere feet from them. "And he'd also strangle me for ruining your date with this beautiful young girl. Now, off you get, Harry!"

Before he trotted off to rejoin Cassie, Harry left George with a demand. "Mate, you have to tell Becs what was going on. She was really worried." Satisfied with George's grim nod, Harry returned to his date.

"Sorry about that," he apologized to Cassie. She shook her head vigorously. "I should be the one apologizing. I didn't mean to intrude on something so private. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

One look at the sincerity in her sweet face was enough for him. He was a goner.

"You know what, I think everything will be."

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, what do you think? Do you like it? Don't worry, the next chapter will be a lot more Harry/Cassie. I just had a lot more inspiration for George in this chapter.**_


	8. Metal, Muggle Death Trap

_Chapter Eight_  
 _Metal, Muggle Death Trap_

"You're really sure you want to come with me?" Hermione questioned for the millionth time. Draco sighed in exasperation and grabbed the witch by her shoulders. "If you ask me that one more time I'll feed you to some bloody hippogriffs!"

Hermieon blushed and apologized again. "I just don't know how long I'm going to be, Draco. It's going to be a wild goose chase. I haven't the slightest idea where to start. I have no idea what I'm doing. Do you really want to be away from England for so long?" She wanted desperately for him to go with her. After thinking him dead, she never wanted to be apart from him. But she also understood the crazy journey she was about to embark.

Draco dropped his hands to her hips and tugged her close. Slipping his hands around to rest on her back, he murmured, "Hermione, I would be glad to never return to England. And it doesn't matter that you've no idea where to start. You've got me now. I'll be there, no matter what you need of me. You're going to Australia and I'm going with you. It's settled."

"You're going to Australia?" a new voice cried in disbelief. Hermione jumped out of Draco's arms to find her dreadful cousin Lisa hovering in her doorway. "Mum's never going to believe this!"

Before she could beg her to keep quiet, Lisa was out the door shouting, "Little Hermione's going to Australia!"

"Excellent," Hermione glowered, kicking her bed in frustration. At Draco's confused look, she explained, "I didn't want them to know I was leaving. In fact, before you came I had every intention of sneaking out last night."

Draco shook his head. "Just a day later and I might not have ever found you."

Hermione kissed the tip of his nose. "Something tells me that you wouldn't have given up."

"Says the one who instantly believed me to be dead," Draco retorted, not wanting to admit the truth to her statement. She rolled her eyes. "You know I never would have stopped looking for you if I knew you were alive. Now, let's go see what damage Lisa's done."

Draco wanted to take her hand but suddenly second guessed himself. He wasn't sure what she wanted her family to know. Instead, he settled to striding quietly by her side, at last her equal.

"Australia, Hermione?" Auntie Sharon shrieked as soon as Hermione emerged at the top of the stairs. "What is the meaning of this?"

Mustering up the scattered remains of her Gryffindor courage, Hermione stated her intentions quite simply. "It means I'm going to Australia."

"You're only 18, child, you can't go halfway across the world by yourself!" her grandmother exclaimed. Hermione nodded. "I see your point. Which is exactly why Draco will be joining me." At this, her grandmother let out a scandalized gasp along with the rest of the family.

"We don't even know this boy! You can't go alone with him!" her grandfather roared. Hermione crossed her arms defiantly, Draco shifting uncomfortably by her side. "I'm afraid that's not up to you. We're both adults, and we've both agreed to go. Together."

To both their relief, Amos entered the conversation. "Why the trip to Australia, Minnie?"

Draco looked to Hermione, curious as to what explanation she might give. "My parents. They've been traveling abroad. I think it's time I went to see them," Hermione offered vaguely.

"How long have they been traveling?" Lisa wondered, miffed that her parents wouldn't leave her alone for weeks at a time.

"Well, actually, they've more sort of living there than traveling now."

"My son moved to Australia and didn't bother telling me?" her grandfather bellowed disbelievingly. "How dare he? I bet it was that vixen of a mother of yours. She was always trying to come between us."

Draco wisely took a step away from the fuming witch. Anger was rolling of her in nearly visible waves. He knew the fiery little lioness had a legendary temper when provoked. "My mother is a wonderful woman," she seethed dangerously, "Both my parents are far too good for the likes of this family. I have my bags packed, my best friend back from the dead, and two tickets to Australia tonight. Come on, Draco."

Wordlessly, the boy followed her back up to the room. She grabbed a purple suitcase from under her bed and made her way back down the stairs. She refused even a glance at the livid family still sat in the living room. She barreled through the front door and down the steps. Draco was grateful for his longs legs otherwise he might have been left behind.

"Hermione!"

The two teens fell to a halt to see Amos, Amber, Amelia, and Steve spilling out of the doorway. They ran at Hermione and attacked her with a collective hug. Draco was amazed by the sheer emotion before him. He always had been jealous of how easily Gryffindors displayed their emotions. "Get in here, son," Amos laughed as he grabbed Draco's arm. He was suddenly overwhelmed by bodies. Hermione's hand somehow found its way into his and his heart swelled.

Three weepy woman later, the hug broke up. Amelia launched herself at Hermione one last time. "Please keep in touch this time, Minnie!"

"I promise, Em!" Hermione swore fervently. She looked over to her uncle. "Tell your parents we miss them, will you?

"I will," she promised, "I miss them, too." Only Draco understood just how much.

"And you, Draco," Amos said to catch his attention, "I trust you to keep my Minnie safe?"

"Absolutely, sir," Draco assured with utmost sincerity.

As they turned to go, Amber called out, "Oh do be safe, you two!"

The two started their walk into town. They walked in a content silence for a while until Draco finally brought up what had been bothering him. "Hermione? What exactly did you mean when you said you had two tickets for Australia?"

* * *

"Hermione, what were you thinking? This metal, Muggle death trap will be the end of us!" Draco his under his breath as he struggled to buckle his seat belt. Hermione's amused giggles should have irritated him, but he found them endearing nonetheless. "Honestly, I didn't survive a bloody war to die what will surely be an inevitable death in this strange birdlike contraption!"

"You're such a drama queen, Draco, honestly!" Hermione teased, reaching over to buckle his seat belt for him. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to place a kiss to his scarlet cheek. Leaning back in her seat, she grabbed his hand. Feeling the tremors running through it, she gave him a reassuring squeeze. "We're going to be fine, Draco. I've flown loads of times." She knew better than to tell him not to be afraid. That would certainly not go over well.

The boy beside her grumbled some further complaints and criticisms about the plane but otherwise remained quiet. Hermione knew the delay was only increasing his anxiety and wished she could ease it. "I still can't believe you convinced me to do this," he said in disbelief. She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.

"You must like me or something," she joked happily. Draco looked down at her only to meet her wild curls. In a low murmur, he agreed, "Or something."

"I bet my ancestors are all rolling over in their graves right now," Draco mused thoughtfully. Hermione sat up and caught the look on his face. "What a little pureblood rebel you've become, Draco Malfoy."

With a brilliant smile, he said, "And it feels damn good."

His confidence was lost seconds later when the plane lurched into motion. His already pale face turned deathly white as the plane sped down the runway. Hermione put a hand on his chest and felt his heart racing a mile a minute. Love for his willingness to do things the Muggle way for her made her beam. Without warning, she grabbed her face in his hands and pulled him into a heated kiss.

When she finally pulled away, loving the dazed expression on his usually stoic face, Hermione whispered his name. She pulled him across her and said, "Look out the window, Draco."

Willing to do anything the gorgeous witch said, Draco did just that. He couldn't bit back the audible gasp that escaped his lips. London was just a tiny spec of land. His view of the earth below was skewed by the monstrous white clouds that littered the sky. Even when he went higher than he ever should have dared on his broom brought him nowhere near this height. It was glorious.

Hermione ran her fingers through his hair absently as they stared out the window together.

* * *

Draco's awe soon faded once he realized that all he was going to be seeing for the next few hours was a thick, white blanket of clouds. "Okay, I'm bored now."

"Draco," Hermione admonished, "It's only been an hour!"

"An hour? If we'd just taken a portkey we would already be there, Granger!" he cried in a hushed tone. She raised a threatening eyebrow at him. "Don't you Granger me. I told you, I want a break from magic. And this is good for you, learning more about my world. Let's just watch a movie for now."

He gave her a blank look.

"What?" she questioned, "Are you too good for movies now?"

Draco shook his head slowly. When asked what he wanted to watch, he just told her to pick something she liked. He watched curiously as she took the white cord that was plugged into the arm rest and tucked it in her ear. While she searched, he hesitantly put the other one in his ear.

"Oh, this is my favorite, Draco!" she cried delightedly. Merlin, he would never get tired of that smile. She tugged him over to her, tucking their heads together to watch the small box on the back of the seat in front of them. "Don't you just love the Princess Bride?"

Hermione frowned in confusion when Draco suddenly jerked away from her. She winced when the ear bud was yanked out of her ear. "Ow, Draco, what was that for?" she complained, rubbing her sore ear. When he didn't immediately respond, she turned to see what the matter was.

Draco was pressed back against his seat. His knuckles were white from clutching the arm rests so tightly. His silver eyes were wide in shock and his face searched hers for answers.

"What is your problem?" Hermione was questioning his sanity a little. He sputtered before he finally manage to string together a sentence. "It was-it was like a photograph. But with sound!"

Hermione gave him a strange look. "Yes, a movie." When he leaned forward to study the screen with an amazed awe, it finally clicked. "Draco. You can't be telling me that you had no idea what a movie was, right?"

Now, the brilliant witch had witnessed more of Draco's emotions and expressions than anyone else, but even she had not seen him embarrassed before. His cheeks were tinged with a rosy pink and he avoided her curious gaze. "Merlin, you are!"

Annoyed now, Draco scowled at her incredulity. "Forgive me, Granger, for not being enlightened on the workings of the Muggle world." He softened when he felt her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. With me by your side, you'll be enlightened right quick. Now put this back in. They're called headphones. And we're going to watch one of my favorite movies, okay?"

"If we must," Draco sighed to mask his excitement. Hermione rolled her eyes. He was already flying in an airplane, and he was trying not to show how interested he was in watching a movie. Typical boy.

* * *

"Thank, Merlin! I thought we'd never be off that contraption!" Draco exclaimed in relief when the couple stepped into the terminal. Hermione poked the whiney boy in the ribs before strolling off to collect their luggage. He had been less than impressed when she explained that he couldn't just magic his belongings to fit in a small bag like she had while on the run. Something about traveling with no baggage looking suspicious. He was a wizard on an airplane, of course he'd seem suspicious.

"Alright, our bags will be coming from there. Once we've got them we'll have to go through custom," Hermione explained patiently as she waited for her purple suitcase to appear. Draco nodded in understanding. "Then what?" He gave her hand a comforting squeeze when she nervously answered, "I haven't the slightest clue."

"Remember, love, I'm like a bagillionaire. I'll worry about the expenses. You just worry about finding your parents, deal?" His voice held his old haughty tone but with a loving nature behind it. Hermione beamed up at him. "I knew I brought you along for some reason."

"And here I thought she liked me for me. Should've known all she really wants is the money," Draco teased the witch. She shot him a glare before going to retrieve her bag. He trailed after her in a sleep deprived daze. He didn't dare think about how long he had been on that metal bird thing.

* * *

An hour later they found themselves outside the door of their hotel room for the night. Suddenly realizing the reality of their quest, the two grew nervous. The butterflies in their stomachs fluttered anxiously when the room revealed only one bed. The idea of sharing a bed wasn't so terrible to them, but it made everything so much more serious. They had survived a war to be together. Now they just had to figure out what exactly being together meant.

"I'll sleep on the floor," Draco offered quickly. Hermione bit her bottom lip only to drive Draco a little crazy. "No, that's silly. We can share the bed obviously. Just…no funny stuff. Not yet, anyway."

Draco agreed readily. They had all the time in the world now. There was no need to rush anything.

When they finally fell into bed, Draco had planned on giving her space, though he desperately wanted to be as close as possible. He needn't have warred with himself. As soon as she turned out the lights, she snuggled right up to him. With a content sigh, he wrapped an arm around her.

"I don't know where to even begin, Draco. But I know I'm the happiest girl in the world for having you with me," Hermione voiced into the dark. He was glad the darkness hid his goofily pleased grin. "We'll worry about that in the morning, alright. Now get some sleep. This jetlag business is simply dreadful. I can't believe that you convinced a Malfoy onto an airplane! A _Malfoy_ on the craziest bloody invention the Muggles could dare dream up!"

"Shut it, would you?" Hermione scolded playfully. "We both know you loved it, disgracing all previous Malfoys. Draco, my little rebel."

"Okay, maybe I loved the idea of it, but not the actual being on a plane," Draco grumbled. "I mean, how you could even think it was a good-"

He was promptly silenced by Hermione's lips on his. Just as he got into it, Hermione pulled away. "There. Now shut your sassy mouth and let me sleep, would you?"

Like a properly chastised little boy, Draco sulked and mumbled a reluctant, "Fine."

* * *

 ** _A/N: Draco was on a plane! Guess there really was a snake on the plane ;) Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a review to let me know if you did!_**


	9. Recklessly Impulsive

_Chapter Nine_  
 _Recklessly Impulsive_

George was more than a little sheepish the next time he saw Becs. They had gone from being instructor and newbie surfer to best friends fairly quickly, and he was afraid he'd ruined that with his earlier outburst. He shook out his hands, mentally preparing himself for explaining his odd behavior to her. She had been upset when he left, and he knew her well enough by now that he would find her by the water. It hadn't taken her long to prove himself right. His hearted thundered away in his chest when he caught sight of her dirty blonde curls down by the water already.

When Becs took notice of him, she greeted him with a wary smile. Her tanned skin brought out her brilliant jade green eyes. Her dark eyebrows knotted together when she saw how nervous George seemed. She was smart enough to notice the telltale signs of a proper cry but knew better than to mention it. Before she could ask how he was, George blurted out his story in one miraculously long breath.

"Sorry about freaking out when you called me Red I didn't mean to be so crazy but you see I had a twin brother who was killed in May and I don't really know how to cope with it and I came to Australia with Harry to try to move on but I still have no idea what I'm doing and when you called me Red I thought you called me Fred and I just panicked because no one's said his name around me in months and my mother used to mix us up and it kind of crushed me and yeah."

Becs could only gape at him. As she didn't understand hardly a word of his rushed sentiment, her amazement was at how many words he managed to say without taking a breath. Shaking her head to clear it, Becs requested him to repeat his story. Much more slowly.

George rubbed his face with shaking hands and took a deep breath. In a defeated voice, he began again. "I lost my brother in May. Well, not lost, I know right where he is. You know, I never quite got that. Why people say they've lost someone, as if they've only temporarily misplaced them. I mean, it really quite-"

He paused his nervous ramblings when he felt a hand on his shoulder and a soft but stern, "George."

Becs followed suit when George flopped unceremoniously onto the sand. They sat side by side, George staring of into the distance, her eyes never leaving his face. "He was my twin. And he died in May. In the months after I was basically catatonic. The only one who ever got me talking was Harry. He was the only one I ever felt comfortable grieving in front of. I felt guilty being sad in front of my family. I mean, they lost a brother and son too. But he was my other half, you know?" George explained sadly. Becs rested a comforting hand on his knee. "You know, before that night, we'd never been apart for more than a few hours at a time? I mean, we'd get sick of each other like all siblings but never for long. We were legendary at school with our pranks. The Weasley prankster twins."

Becs tried to lighten the mood by playfully shoving him. "Ha, I knew you were a prankster!"

A broken smile found its way on George's face. "You were right. We even have a business you know. A joke shop."

"Seriously?" She never would have thought such a joker like him would own a business, even in the joker industry.

"And not a hole in the wall type place, I'm talking hugely successful, shipments all over the globe," George said without a hint of arrogance. She was shocked by his words. He was only 20 after all. "We were planning to open a second shop in Hogsmeade, the village right by our school. Not that we graduated, of course. We never finished our final year."

"So you're telling me that you own a wildly successful joke shop even though you never graduated school and yet you're in this little Australian town no one cares about?" Becs wondered incredulously. George nodded gravely. "I tried to go back after. But it wasn't the same without him. We invented everything together, lived above the shop together. I left Verity, our best shop girl, in charge. And my little brother, of course. Harry decided we should skip town for a while, give ourselves a chance to breathe. I felt like I had to act like I was okay so my family wouldn't worry. I wasn't getting any better so I agreed with Harry and here we are."

Becs chewed her bottom lip, deep in thought. His story made so much more make sense now. She had been right in her suspicions she shared with Harry. She didn't have any siblings but she did have Cassie. The girl was her best friend and she couldn't imagine life without her. That being said, she wasn't sure she could even comprehend how much George was missing his twin. The last thing she wanted to do was upset him, but she wasn't a surfer because she was timid. Bravely, she asked, "His name was Fred, wasn't it? That's what you thought I called you?"

She received a single, curt nod in response. "I'm sorry, George, I never meant to upset you. But I'm glad you told me."

They sat together with nothing but the low hum of the waves for a long time. George leaned back on his elbows and closed his eyes. Becs breathed in the salty air and watched him raise his face to the sun. Just when she thought he wouldn't respond, he spoke up. His voice was thick with emotion as he said, "Call me Red, will you? I think I wouldn't mind thinking I was being mistaken for him again. Mum used to mix us up all the time."

"Sure thing, Red."

"Cassie, I'm sorry for interrupting our dinner," the Boy-Who-Lived apologizing for the thousandth time as they made their way back up to town. Realizing that he probably ruined the date, he sighed and shook his head. "I'll just walk you back to your shop if you want." He raised his head hopefully when he felt her hand slip into his and pull him to a stop. There was no denying the flurry of butterflies in his stomach. Her touch awakened something inside of him that had been dormant for too long.

"Harry, if you think you've ruined what I am really hoping was a date because you went to comfort your clearly distraught friend than you're a raging idiot," Cassie informed him with a disappointed shake of her head. She squeezed his hand before dropping it. His heart cried at the loss of contact. "Besides, I listened to your woes. It's only right you hear mine."

"Of course," Harry managed to say in relief. He was sure he wouldn't have forgiven himself for mucking things up with her. "You're absolutely right. I still can't believe you made me tell you my whole life story. And that you didn't immediately run away screaming."

Cassie found she adored the slightly dazed expression on the boy's face. It was a struggle to resist the urge to run her fingers through his wildly messy black hair. He wondered at her secret smile, never guessing that she was thinking about how much she loved his hair. From what she had observed so far, she thought him to be a little reserved, a little introverted, testing the waters for the first time. It seemed his hair was the only part of him that didn't care a lick for order or conforming to the expected. Having heard his story of loss and murder and constant fear she was surprised at how level headed he seemed. There was no doubt in her mind that he must have been unbelievably strong. And even though he had told her his tragic story, not seeming to omit many details, she couldn't help but feel he was still just as mysterious to her. The last time she had put her heart on the line had ended disastrously, but she clearly hadn't learned her lesson if her desire to solve the puzzle of Harry told her anything.

"Like I told you before, if I haven't run away by now, what else have you got to tell me that could scare me off?" Cassie explained as they ambled along the beach. The sunset was breathtaking, Harry had eyes only for her. "Now that we've got the worst out of the way, I can only look forward to finding out the good things about you. Like your friends mean the world to you. That was very sweet of you, with your friend back there. Sad, but he's lucky to have you. And I think, maybe, that you also are quick to doubt yourself if you thinking you ruined our date is anything to go by."

"I hardly think that my self-doubt is one of the good things to learn about me," Harry chuckled somewhat bitterly, recognizing one of his regretful faults. Cassie bumped him with her hip in hopes of ridding him of his thoughtful frown. When his emerald eyes met hers, she smiled bashfully. "I disagree. It helped me learn that you didn't want this date to end."

Harry couldn't help the heat that rose to his cheeks at the truth in her statement. "Alright. You got me there."

"You also seem like you're rather reserved," she stated confidently. The curious mix of her bold and contradicting shy behavior was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but stare at her. At her words, he had to laugh. "Maybe that's been true in these past few months, but I assure you any of my friends would strongly disagree with you. I've been known to be recklessly impulsive, I'm afraid."

"Hm, okay. I'll take that into consideration," she said thoughtfully, realizing she wanted to witness some of his impulsiveness. He poked her side when she fell quiet. "You got quiet on me. What about you? What should I know about you?"

"Well, I have to say that, generally speaking, I'm a rather confident person. But when it comes to this," she said, gesturing between Harry and herself, "I've become fairly shy."

"Perhaps one of your woes caused this?" Harry suggested. She narrowed her eyes playfully at his thinly veiled hint. "Perhaps," she admitted vaguely. They fell to a halt when the sand ended and the pavement began. Both stared at the division wordlessly. The night was fast approaching as the sun sank below the ocean's surface. The ending of a day but the beginning of them. Heart racing, Harry reached for her hand and pulled her to a bench a few feet away. They collapsed onto it and enjoyed the fading view of the water.

"I was adopted," Cassie started suddenly. Harry looked to her curiously. The last rays of sun tinted her white blonde locks a soft pink. He turned his body toward her and prepared to listen intently. Cassie remained facing the water, playing nervously with the hem of her sundress. "I'll dare say I was luckier than you in my replacement parents, though, sorry."

Harry grinned and let out a small noise of agreement. "I'll dare say you're entirely correct in that."

"Sorry. Anyway, my parents, my biological parents, that is, wanted nothing to do with me. I was six when they gave me up. I was born in England but an Australian couple adopted me. They're mental sometimes, far too embarrassing for their own good, but I love them. I mean, they own the weirdest shop ever! They don't even know how to describe it they so many different things. But they've loved me more than I ever thought I could be. I have to say I have not missed my biological parents. But I lost something more than that when they gave me up. Like your friend, I lost my brother." Her voice had faded as she neared the last sentence.

Harry inched his hand closer, hoping she might want to hold it as she told her story. He never had been good at comforting Hermione, and he realized that even though this girl made him feel alive, he still had no idea how to make her feel better. Something in him sang for joy when she took the hint and slipped her fingers through his.

She started in again. "He was only one year older than me when he, um, when I lost him. They gave me up shortly after. It took a long time for me to forgive them, to feel like I wasn't completely worthless. It sounds like you understand that part at least. But I had two strangers who, with time, became the parents I should have had and taught me that I was worth so much more. Still, though, I've always felt a bit like I've been stuck between two worlds, not quite belonging in either."

"And the shyness about this?" Harry wondered, gesturing between the two of them like she had done earlier. Cassie sighed deeply. "Yes. That. I've only had one serious relationship before, and it was wonderful for a long time. Two years, actually. But he rather ruined it when he wasn't careful enough about hiding his other girlfriend."

"Wow."

"Mmm. He kind of shattered my self-confidence for a while, but I'm getting it back. Something about you makes me feel like I can get the old me back," Cassie finished. She finally turned her head to face him. She raised a questioning eyebrow at his unreadable expression. He waved it off as he pulled her to her feet, not stepping away when she bumped into his chest.

"I was just thinking the same thing," Harry admitted in a low voice. His closeness was making her disoriented. She couldn't formulate a coherent thought. He desperately wanted to kiss her, and it would have been so easy, the space between their lips nearly nonexistent. It would have been easy, yes, but he couldn't be sure it would be welcome. The self-doubt that was brought up earlier was telling him she wouldn't want that. More reluctant than he'd ever been, Harry took a step back and gestured toward the dimly lit street.

Cassie nodded in a wordless agreement. As they fell into step together as they made their way down the sidewalk, she wondered why he hadn't kissed her. She certainly hadn't expected to want the cliché good night kiss when she first agreed to dinner, but now that she didn't get it, it bothered her. She wanted to kiss that wonderful smile.

"I have to thank you for the most straight forward conversation I've had in, well, my life," Harry said in amazement when he couldn't take the silence between them any longer. It had seemed awkward, like there was something that should have been done to correct it. Cassie smiled warmly at him. "You're very welcome. I had a great night as well. I don't suppose you'd want another?"

Cassie frowned when Harry fell to a halt. She turned to face him with a question on her lips. His intense expression distracted her from it however. "Harry, what-"

"I know I should wait. But I can't. I just can't," he blurted out.

"What are you on about, Harry?"

"I told you I've always been recklessly impulsive. I don't think I'm going to regret this, but I realize that there is more than likely a better time for it," he explained simply as if it made all the sense in the world.

"I don't understand wh-"

She hardly registered his fingers knotting through her hair before his lips crashed into hers.

It was entirely unexpected but everything she had been hoping for. It was a short kiss, but full of meaning. Pulling away from him, Cassie let out a content sigh and ran her fingers through his unkempt hair. She figured if he was impulsive enough to kiss her she could run her fingers through his hair like she wanted. What she saw once she did, however, had her jumping away from him.

"Cassie? Oh, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, you don't even like me or-Cassie?" He realized during his stammering that she was staring at him in utter shock, her eyes wide, her breaths shallow. Tentatively, she reached a hand up and brushed away his hair once more. Before Harry could ask what was wrong, he felt her feather light touch trace his lightning bolt scar.

"You're Harry," she said. He frowned. "Obviously, Cassie. Are you alright?"

She shook her head gravely. "No, Harry. I mean, you're _Harry_. Harry _Potter_."

Cassie pulled away from him looking so overwhelmed that it didn't yet occur to him that, as a Muggle, she shouldn't know who he was. It wasn't until she started freaking out that it dawned on him.

"Oh my God, I can't believe it! The bloody Boy-Who-Lived! Here, with me! How did this happen?" she muttered frantically to herself.

That's when it hit him. Hearing his nickname from her lips.

"Cassie," he said, voice so deadly calm that she whipped her shaking head around to face him. She shrank back from his intense gaze. "How do you know who I am?"

"I-I-I have to go," she stuttered before spinning on her heel and fleeing.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, George was only supposed to be a minor character, and Becs wasn't even going to have a name but I just can't stop with them now! And I've always been rather terrible at cliffhangers but I think I have maybe succeeded this time? ;)**_


	10. Crazy Creatures

_Chapter Ten_  
 _Crazy Creatures_

The first few days in Australia, Hermione and Draco did nothing but explore the beautiful beaches. Hermione had waited a year, she could wait a few more days. They positively thrived in the new country. While neither were terribly keen on swimming, they lazed about in the sand quite contented to appreciate the breathtaking water. Hermione's one goal, other than finding her parents, was accomplished in those first few days, as well. And it brought her much more amusement than she had anticipated.

The young witch had always wanted to see a kangaroo. She understood that her desire was probably what every unoriginal tourist wanted to see, but she couldn't be bothered to care. They had been exploring when she came across a small group of them. What followed would forever remain a precious memory.

Draco had been mystified by the hopping creature.

"What in Merlin's name is that?" he questioned frantically, eyeing the animal warily. Hermione was too busy cooing at the adorable little joey that was sniffing at them curiously to answer him. "Granger," he said. She finally turned to find him looking more than a little worried. "Oh, honestly, Draco!" she admonished, "It's only a kangaroo!"

"A _what_?"

"A kangaroo. Now come here," she demanded bossily. He shook his head and stepped away from her instead. Hermione raised an accusing eyebrow at him. "It's a common animal in Australia. You're going to be seeing them everywhere."

"Are they dangerous?"

Impatiently, Hermione went and fetched the slightly frightened Slytherin and marched him back over to where the joey remained watching them. "Granger, really, I-"

"It's not going to breathe fire or claw your eyes out or drag you underwater or anything," Hermione promised sincerely. He frowned disapprovingly at her patronizing behavior. Affronted by her tone, he snapped, "I'm not familiar with all your ridiculous Muggle animals, Granger. You can't expect me to be comfortable with them."

He cowered away from her fierce glare. "Draco Malfoy, do you have any idea what kind of creatures that I had to get used to when I got to Hogwarts? Spiders the size of cars, giant three-headed dogs, a basilisk thanks to your precious house, and dragons, Draco! Bloody _dragons_!" she exclaimed exasperatedly. "So you will stand here with me and look at these kangaroos and find them to be the most adorable bloody creature you've ever seen!"

Draco gulped. Thoroughly chastised, he looked down at the creature with slight distaste. After a few moments of eyeing the animal over, he supposed it wasn't the most hideous thing he'd ever seen. Hermione, to his dismay, had wandered out of sight following another one of the blasted creatures. The tiny thing before him dared to hop closer. Draco froze.

"No, I don't think so. You stay right there," he commanded sternly. Curious brown eyes blinked in response. The joey hopped closer still. "Listen, you mangy fur ball, I am not nearly as charmed by you as Hermione. So…stay back."

Unsurprisingly, the little kangaroo hopped right into Draco's legs. It bounced off them and shook its head, a little confused. Draco felt something stir in his heart as it raised its head up to look at him. He felt an overwhelming and entirely ridiculously urge to apologize to it. "No, no. Stop messing with me. You're the one who hopped into me. As if I'm going to apologize for that."

There was something so, so human, he guessed, in the animal's challenging eyes that he took a surprised step back. The joey followed. Quirking an interested eyebrow, Draco took an experimental step to the side. The baby kangaroo followed suit. A delighted smile spread across Draco's features.

* * *

"What do you mean I can't keep him?" Draco pouted in response to Hermione's immediate no. She couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. Draco's wounded grey eyes bored into hers as he held out a hand to draw her attention to the very cute joey bashfully hiding behind his legs. Tiny paws had latched onto his jeans and her heart melted at the sight. "Draco, you can't keep a kangaroo as a pet," she tried to reason as gently as possible. She had really ruffled his feathers by blatantly telling him no. She doubted anyone ever had.

"But we've bonded," he continued as if it were an obvious argument, "I am his wizard and he is my kangaroo. I don't understand you're negativity in the matter."

Hermione burst into a fit of giggles.

* * *

Not wanting to admit to anyone who might ask that their first fight as a couple was about keeping a kangaroo as a pet, Hermione decided that she would keep that memory private and precious. Draco continued to pout for the rest of the day, sure his little friend was sorely missing him. No one might ever believe her, but Draco Malfoy was a complete softie at heart.

Shaking herself out of her musings, Hermione returned to worrying. He hadn't mentioned it once, but she knew his birthday was the following day. It was hard to believe that it had been more than a month since the final battle. She had a gift for him, but she was nervous about it. What were you supposed to get someone who had the money to buy everything? She hadn't been sure what to get him until he had met his little friend.

On the morning of his birthday, Draco woke up to a barrage of kisses. He couldn't help but laugh joyfully as Hermione showered his face with chaste kisses. It was bliss. It wasn't long, however, before he directed her lips onto his and gave her a mind-blowing kiss that left her utterly disoriented. When he finally released her, she couldn't quite remember what she had been meaning to say to him.

"Good morning," she greeted in a bit of a daze. Draco shot her a cheeky smile. "Good indeed."

After a few moments of simply marveling in the fact that the absurdly handsome blonde that couldn't keep his hands off her was hers, Hermione remembered why she woke him up in the first place. "Happy birthday, Draco," she murmured with a kiss to his cheek. He looked at her in surprise. "You remembered?"

"Of course, silly. I know all my friends' birthdays!" She watched as his brilliant smile faded. "What is it?"

He played with one of her curls shyly before saying quietly, "I'm not just a friend, though, am I?"

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "Of course not! You're so much more."

"But what more?"

She couldn't resist. "Draco, are you asking me if we're official?"

"Official?" he echoed, adorably confused.

"Boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So…are we?" he wondered in a low voice, not quite meeting her eye. It struck her then that he was afraid she would say no. "Draco," she said seriously enough that he braved meeting her glance, "If you think for one minute that I'm not crazy about you, then you're mad. I've been waiting for far too long to be able to call you my boyfriend."

She wasn't the slightest bit surprised when his lips came crashing down on hers.

* * *

"Go on, open it!" Hermione urged, eyes bright with childlike anticipation. Draco was bemused by her excitement over him opening his gift. His birthdays had never been much of a joyous occasion, but it was clear they were important to her. With a wary smile, Draco dug into the bag.

"It's a kangaroo!" he cried happily. Hermione never thought she'd see a day when Draco Malfoy would be hugging a plush animal so gleefully. "There's more in there," she informed him with a pleased grin. His face lit up as he removed the remaining gifts. A little crease forming between his brows as they knit together, Draco read the paper aloud. "Certificate of adoption. This certificate acknowledges that a symbolic adoption of a kangaroo by a Draco Malfoy has been made with a generous contribution to the World Wildlife Fund to protect species and their habitats."

He looked to Hermione in wonder. "Do I-do I own a kangaroo now?"

"Symbolic, sweetie. A symbolic adoption," Hermione clarified in amusement. Draco nodded slowly. Then, with a shrug, he simply said, "I'm going to believe that I own a kangaroo."

"You're ridiculous."

"That may be, but I'm yours," he said in satisfaction. "And you're mine and I own a kangaroo."

* * *

"Okay, what do we have to go on? I'll make a list. It might help us decide where to start," Draco suggested, grabbing a pen and paper. When Hermione first showed him the writing utensil, he had a ten minute rant about all of the time and labor he'd wasted on ink and parchment. He didn't like the way her lips curled downwards as she thought. "I've already told you. I have nothing to go on."

Draco ran a hand through his blonde hair, momentarily distracted by how long it had gotten. She hadn't said anything about it, but he could tell she liked it when it was all mussed up. The urge to comb it into an ordered submission was still strong, but Draco was trying to figure out who he was without the haughty pureblood society dictating what was right. He was realizing it was okay to not be in control of every little thing, and his hair seemed a simple enough place to start. "Well, when you modified their memories what memories did you give them?"

"They would definitely still think they're dentists. I made sure that they were happily married, believed they had no children, and dentists who's life dream was to move to Australia," Hermione recollected sadly. He hated to see her so down. "So, we're absolutely looking for dentists. And Mum and Dad would always work together, whether at their own place or not. The problem is…"

"What? What's the problem?" Draco urged, leaning forward expectantly. With a dramatic sigh, Hermione flopped face first onto the mattress. Draco, who had been perched on the edge of the bed, was sent into the air. He let out a soft chuckle before following her lead. He reached a hand up and brushed her wild curls away from her face. "Hermione, what's the issue?"

She mumbled something into the powder blue comforter. Draco rested a steady hand on her back and teased, "I'm sorry, but I don't speak mumble." When she still wouldn't look at him, he used his hand to gently roll her onto her side. "Now tell me what's wrong."

Unable to deny his patient request, Hermione explained, "Their names. I tried to give them the names Monica and Wendell Wilkens. But the spell wasn't exactly perfect. I have no way of knowing if I was able to make them remember something that specific. When I was researching the spells, I gathered that they would retain their old memories, just without me in them. And it was easy enough planting the idea of Australia. But names are so specific. I'm not sure I did it well enough for them to stick."

"So, back to the list of things we know for sure…1. Australia 2. Dentists 3. Remains to be seen?" Draco said. Hermione groaned and buried her face in the blanket again. "Hermione!" Draco laughed sympathetically, dragging her into his arms comfortingly, "Sure, it's not much to go on, but we've got something! We're in the right country, for one. And we know we only need to look in dental offices."

Hermione, for once succumbing to her childish side, pouted. "So, what? We're just going to personally visit every dentist office in the whole of Australia?"

* * *

"I can't believe we're personally visiting every dentist office in the whole of Australia," Hermione grumbled miserably under her breath. By some strange twist in fate, Draco was the one full of sunshine while Hermione was the rain cloud. He grinned at her, positively beaming. "Well, if someone hadn't been so unbelievably successful in making them untraceable, then we wouldn't have had to resort to such measures." He caught the hand that tried to swat at him.

He couldn't really blame her for her grumpy behavior. In comparison to the few feeble rays of sun, the heat was sweltering and the sun scalding, and it did not agree with the pasty complexion of the English couple. Hermione's hair, wild before, was an untamable beast in the new climate. She had taken to wearing it up in a thick bun to keep it out of her way. Draco secretly loved it as it reminded him of her hair at the Yule Ball when he fell completely and utterly under her spell. Like all the veterans of the most recent wizarding war, the two had also had several sleepless nights in the wake of terrible nightmares. They pulled through them together, but it still took its toll on their moods. And her foul mood was, of course, most influenced by the fact that they had just left their tenth dental office with no sign of her parents.

When they realized how impossibly daunting the task before them truly was, Hermione and Draco reluctantly agreed that, crazy as it sounded, they only had one plan of action. As he was perfectly content now that he was at Hermione's side, Draco wasn't too terribly frustrated by the slow progress this option made. Hermione, on the other hand, once again incensed with a purpose, a goal, was driving herself mental trying to find a more effective search plan. And so far, she had nothing.

"We'll find them, love, don't worry," Draco reassured her yet again. Hermione glared at his sunny disposition. It seemed to be masking a nervousness should couldn't explain, one she hadn't seen since the first days of their friendship. Narrowing her eyes, hands on her hips, she questioned, "What's going on with you. You've been in a far too good mood all day and yet you seem nervous too."

His silver eyes widened comically and he shook his head a little too defensively. "Nothing, nothing at all. Just enjoying the weather, is all."

"Draco," she drawled out warningly.

She watched in fascination as his arrogant façade instantly faded away. Cheeks tinged a light pink, Draco shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at his feet. "Nothing. It's just that I had a thought the other day."

"About?" she encouraged, looping her arm around his as they started down the sidewalk.

"Well, at this point, it's obvious that we're going to be in the country for the foreseeable future," he started slowly. When he trailed off, Hermione prompted him to continue. She didn't know if she was going to like whatever thought he seemed so uncomfortable voicing. "Are you tired of staying in hotels?" he asked abruptly.

"Hotels? What?"

Draco sighed and fell to a stop. Hermione stepped away from him to take him in. "I was thinking that we should find a place that we like and rent a flat there," he finally said, careful to avoid her confused expression. We've been at this for a few weeks now, and I can tell how much each disappointment crushes you. I figure that, maybe if we had a place of our own to go back to, it wouldn't be so completely awful. I mean, that way, no matter where we end up, we can easily apparate and be home."

He risked a glance up to gauge her expression only to be nearly tackled to the ground with a hug. "Hermione?" he choked out, staggering under her sudden weight. "Sorry, sorry," she apologized, relaxing her grip. Her hazel eyes, disappointed just seconds ago, were bright with joy. "Who ever said you weren't the most thoughtful guy in the world was crazy!"

Draco grinned sheepishly. "No one's ever said anything like that. But _you're_ the crazy one for keeping me around."

She smacked him in the arm. "No self-depreciation. We've talked about this, idiot!"

"Somehow calling me an idiot doesn't encourage that no self-depreciation idea of yours."

She rolled her eyes at his cheeky wink. With a thoughtful smile, she said, "What I wouldn't give for that Time Turner I had in third year." At Draco's wary expression, she grinned devilishly, "I'd go back to visit your foul, loathsome, evil little self and rub it in his face that in just 5 years he'll be asking me to move in with him!"

Shaking his head in disbelief, Draco chuckled. "Those are the kind of thoughts that should've sent you straight to Slytherin."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Thank you so much to all of you who have been leaving me reviews! It means so much that you like this story, and it makes me really excited to write! :)**_


	11. Magically Misfortunate

_**A/N: Hi, guys! Terribly sorry to keep you waiting so long! I've ventured out into the great nothingness that is the ranch where I keep my pony. It's in the middle of nowhere with awful internet connection. But alas, I have prevailed and here's another chapter. And as tomorrow it will be too cold to go riding :( I should have plenty of tome to work on the next chapter :) Enjoy!**_

Chapter Eleven  
Magically Misfortunate

Despite having been in considerably more earth shattering, soul rendering moments, Harry was in such a shock that he couldn't make himself run after her. His heart was screaming at him to run, to chase her down, to have her explain. But his brain, however, was so utterly scrambled that his limbs remained frozen, his body unmoving. She was long gone and he was standing in the shadow of the streetlight, alone and confused.

He was finally spurred into action when a kindly middle-aged couple approached him. Honey eyes and dark locks greeted him once they finally gained his attention.

"Hello, dear, are you alright?" the petite woman wondered. She was just shorter than Harry but carried herself in such a presence that he hardly noticed. Her golden brown yes were filled with concern for the strange boy standing motionless in the street. Her hair was pulled up in a professional looking bun, a style that seemed to contradict the warm friendliness radiating off her.

Her sweet voice lulled Harry out of his shock. He shook his head in hopes of clearing it and offered her a small smile. "I am, ma'am, thanks. Just received a bit of a shock from a friend, I suppose."

The woman's husband, tall where she was short with serious eyes, glanced around. "And where is the friend of yours?"

"I'm afraid she's run off," the Boy-Who-Lived admittedly, roses blossoming on his cheeks.

With a cheery wink, the man wrapped an arm around his wife. "Well, son, if your friend is anything like this fine lady here, I daresay you should be running after her."

"You're absolutely right, sir. Good evening," Harry said with enthusiasm, darting off in the direction Cassie had disappeared to.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, as he hadn't a clue what he was going to say to her, Cassie was nowhere to be found. Discouraged and downtrodden, the raven haired boy trudged back to his flat.

Upstairs in the little flat above the Quarry Bay Café, George was passed out on the living room couch. The ginger didn't stir a muscle, even as Harry slammed the door in a fit of frustration. He wasn't quite sure how George could still be alive, as his face was sleeping face first on the sofa. How he was breathing was a mystery to Harry.

When shouting and shaking him did nothing to wake his friend, Harry simply collapsed on the other end of the couch. George's legs were a lumpy seat, but Harry hardly cared at that moment. Feeling his legs suddenly trapped proved to be enough to rouse the slumbering boy.

"Hey, lover boy," George teased in a gravelly voice thick with sleep. Harry's worried expression tipped him off that something wasn't quite right with the boy. "What's wrong, mate?"

Harry just shook his head in dismissal of the question. George wriggled his legs out from under Harry and sat up beside him. Guilt sudden swarmed him. "Did-did I ruin your date?"

George's timid question had Harry shaking his head frantically. "Merlin, no, George! Of course not. How'd it go with Becs?"

"Ah, ah, ah. I don't think so, Mr. Potter. There will be no distracting me," George tasked, relieved he hadn't messed up Harry's date. "But things went well, anyway. Now what's wrong? Did something else ruin your date?"

"I did," Harry answered solemnly. "Or at least, my name did."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, George, that Cassie knows who I am."

The ginger looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to be a little less vague.

"She knows I'm Harry Potter, the 'Boy-Who-Lived'."

George's eyes grew comically wide, his mouth hanging open in a fantastically undignified manner. "But-but how? She's a Muggle! I mean, isn't she?"

"I don't know, Harry groaned miserably. "All I know is she bolted the moment she found out."

"You've got to find her, mate!" George exclaimed, jumping off the couch. "What are we waiting for?"

"It's too late to go tonight, mate. And anyway, she was really freaked out. I'll go to her store in the morning. I just need some sleep."

Having been trying to get him to admit to needing sleep, George couldn't argue with him. Harry flopped onto the sofa and took up George's previous position.

* * *

Unfortunately for Harry, Cassie did not want to be found. She was blatantly avoiding the poor boy, always disappearing right before he showed up and reappearing right after he would leave. Not knowing how she might know who he really was proved to drive him up the wall. Harry couldn't decide if he'd be disappointed to find out she was a witch or happy she was. Hadn't he been so intrigued because she was a Muggle, someone who didn't think they knew everything they thought there was to know about him?

After three days of been ignored and avoided, Harry was desperate enough to talk to her again that he decided he wouldn't care if she turned out to be a gnome. Not ready to admit defeat but accepting that he needed help, Harry found himself outside Becs' door.

The surfer tore open the door, clearly eager. "George! I wasn't expecting you so early!" The curly haired blonde's grin morphed into a confused but not unpleasant frown. "Harry?"

"Hey," he greeted nervously. He rubbed the back of his next and wished he had better prepared what he wanted to say to her. "So, I need your help."

Without a word, she stepped back to give him the space to enter. Beds, at 19, had her own flat by the bay. It was rather cramped but kept meticulously clean. The only messiness allowed was the inevitable traces of sand that followed the girl in from the beach. Three different size surf boards were propped up against the wall in the hall leading to the kitchen. She beckoned for Harry to take a seat at one of the stools at her small table.

"Why do you need me, Harry?" she questioned curiously, popping the lid of her soda bottle. She offered Harry one which he politely declined.

"Cassie." He jumped when she slammed the bottle down. "Did you hurt my best friend already?" she shrieked. "No, no!" Harry insisted urgently, covering his head with his arms as she smacked him with a rolled up magazine. "I didn't do anything, I swear!"

At his insistence, Becs ceased her attacks. She eyed the cowering boy suspiciously. Facing the Dark Lord was easy going compared to the death stare Becs was shooting him. "I didn't hurt her. She-I don't know how to put this. We had a great night, an excellent one, really. But then she ran off and I don't know why. She's been avoiding me since. Could you just get her to talk to me? She can go back to pretending I don't exist but only after she talks to me."

"Done."

* * *

Becs stayed true to her word and managed to get the two together. Unfortunately, the way she went about it was less than desirable. Cassie was plotting her best friend's murder as she realized their lunch plans were only a rouse to get her to meet Harry. She took one step into the café only to instantly recognize his messy dark hair. Grey eyes met green before they turned desperately to an escape.

Understanding that she was about to run, yet again, Harry bolted out the door after her. He'd be damned if he was to let her get away this time.

"Cassie!" he called after her. "I just want to talk to you!"

Cassie slipped down an alleyway, convinced that she had thrown him off her scent. Her hands trembled, her stomach churned. Why? Why did he of all people have to saunter into her shop? Make her heart sing?

"Cassie," a voice breathed in relief, "There you are."

She whirled around in fright to find Harry standing not two feet from her. "H-harry."

"Yes," he said coolly, "You made it obvious that you knew my name already. And that you knew what it meant. How? How do you know who I am?"

She cowered away from him. Her eyes flicked all around in search of an escape. He offered none, stepping slowly closer. For each step he took toward her, she took one back. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar. You know about me. About what happened back in England. I came here to get away from all of that. To be away from magic, away from magical people. I thought I had found something here, something so beautifully nonmagical that it was magical in an entirely new way. And then I find out that you know about that. Who are you? _What_ are you? I thought that Helen was the only witch here, but that doesn't seem to be the case, does it? I'm not mad, I just need to understand. I've been thinking about it nonstop for the past three days. What you are, how you ended up here. I mean, you said you were born in England. Hell, if you hadn't been adopted and brought here we might've gone to school together. What would I-"

"I'm a squib," Cassie stated suddenly, stopping his rambling in its tracks. "My family was…rather important. And my father…he was not a good man. He was so embarrassed to have a squib in the family that he was going to-well, he was going to 'resolve the issue' if you know what I mean. My mother managed to keep him from killing me, though. She smuggled me out and sent me to Australia with fake papers before he could. I assume she told him she did it herself.

"I was threatened with death should I ever bring up my heritage to anyone or try to make contact with them. A kind family adopted me when I was seven and they've been nothing but loving. But it's been hard, living in one world and knowing there's a whole other one out there. One you can't be a part of.

"I've met a few witches and wizards that have come through here and heard all about you."

"What family-"

"No, I can't tell you. But I will tell you that I don't regret all of it. They were terrible, my parents. My only regret about that life is my brother."

Harry was more than overwhelmed, but even still, he wondered about something. "You're brother...he's not dead." It was not a question. Cassie buried her face into her hands and fell to her knees. Despite being wary of the girl he thought he knew, he couldn't help but want to comfort her. He dropped down in front of her and wrapped her in his arms.

"It's me," she finally manages to choke out. "It's me who died. My brother, he-he thinks I'm dead. Is it better, you think, to believe that someone is gone for good or to know they're out there somewhere but not know how they are?"

Harry couldn't help but think of Hermione. As far as he knew, or had assumed, she was still out there living her life. But there was a special ache in his heart that came with knowing nothing about what that life was like. What was she doing? Was she safe? And why? Why the silence?

"I think they both suck."

Cassie made a surprised sound that was a tragic mix between a laugh and a sob. Harry, understanding the hurt the blonde was constantly suffering, let her cling to him. He was no lifeline, come to save her from the depths of the despair she'd been denying for years. But nonetheless, he was there and that was all that mattered.

"I want to apologize for not telling you," Cassie sniffed, wiping her face when she finally pulled away from Harry. Before he could open his mouth, she was already waving away his words. "I feel like I should apologize for lying or something. But I didn't. I mean, I didn't know you were the Chosen One."

Harry visibly cringed at the nickname and looked away, his eyes haunted.

"I didn't know who you were, so obviously there was no reason to tell you what I am. But I still feel like I've somehow deceived you."

"I overreacted, Cassie. And for that, I need to apologize," Harry said sincerely, resting back on his hands. "I've been through a lot recently. I've spent years of my life being lied to and manipulated. I know you did nothing of the sort, but I fall back into that mindset sometimes. The war didn't break me completely, but I didn't get out unscathed, no one did. I lost a lot of myself and my friends, and that's why George and I are here. To figure out what's left of us."

Beside him, Cassie had pulled her knees to her chest. Her face was stained with tears, her eyes red and puffy. Harry always scoffed at the books that said women were beautiful when they cried, that vulnerability was something men found desirable. It finally made sense to him. It wasn't that crying made her more beautiful. It was that she was so beautiful, even crying couldn't mar her features.

"I hate that I made you feel like that, Harry," she mumbled mournfully. She looked to him curiously when she felt his hand pry hers away from her knee. "Don't," he said sternly. Eyes softening, he continued. "You're not the only thing that's brought everything back. I've been ignoring it. And I've always been terrible at talking about things. But with you, well, you don't let me distract you. You make me tell you what's going through my head. And, much as it makes me squirm, I need it. I need you."

Harry caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Wordlessly, she stared down at their entwined fingers. He was content to wait for her to speak, happy to have cleared things up between them. He felt immensely guilty for not understanding her avoidance of him the past few days. He vowed to himself that he would let her do what she thought best without trying to force his hand on the matter, not wanting to upset her again. Moments later, Harry would come to regret this.

"Harry, I don't think this is a good idea." Her voice was so quiet, he had to strain to hear her. When the words clicked, he pulled back, wounded. "What?"

She let out a shaky sigh and continued staring down at their joined hands. "This, Harry," she said, louder this time, squeezing his hand before releasing it completely. "I don't think I'm ready for it. And something tells me you're not either."

He was loathe to admit it, but she was right. Much as he wanted to blindly jump headfirst into happiness with the girl, he knew it wasn't that simple. Though they would never again be together, his heart sometimes forgot it was no longer beating for a feisty red head back in England. Harry didn't want to move on too quickly.

"I understand. And, though I don't want to agree, I do," Harry sighed at last. Despite their agreement, neither were particularly happy about it. "But Cassie, you should know. I do like you. As more than a friend. But until we are _both_ ready…I'm happy to call you a dear friend."

"Look at me, the shameful Squib now best buds with Harry bloody Potter. What a world we live in," Cassie sighed. Friends or maybe something a little more, she slipped her hand back into Harry's.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hope you liked it :)**_


	12. Dance in the Dark

**_A/N: Thank you a million times over everyone who has taken the time to write reviews! I'm loving writing this story regardless, but knowing that there are people out there that like it makes me so unbelievably happy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!_**

 _Chapter Twelve  
_ _Dance in the Dark_

Draco didn't quite know what to expect to happen after they had finally finished moving into their new flat, but it was certainly not Hermione throwing herself at him.

He vaguely remembered turning to her to say he was finished when her lips crashed onto his. Her unexpected weight had sent him falling backwards onto the couch. He could hardly care about the rough impact, however, as Hermione's fingers ran through his hair. Her body was so deliciously warm on top of his and he couldn't believe how lucky he was.

Hermione was never this forward with him so he had every intention of enjoying it as much as she would let him. It was breathless, reckless, and passionate, and the taste of her lips on his muddled his brain better than a Confundus charm ever could. While her kisses were deep and soul shattering, Hermione's hands remained unadventurously in his hair. Draco's hands, however, were all for exploring. And explore they did. His hands were everywhere and Hermione was reveling in his touch.

It wasn't until those adventurous hands had made their way up under her shirt that Hermione grew tense. Immediately realizing something was wrong, Draco retracted his hands and moved his lips to place feather light kisses on her neck.

"I don't-Draco, I don't think I'm quite ready," Hermione gasped breathlessly, sitting up. Draco bit back a moan at her new position. The beautifully naïve girl didn't seem to be aware that in her current position she was straddling his lap quite effectively.

"For what?" he wondered just as breathlessly, though he had a pretty strong feeling he knew exactly what she was referring to. Grey eyes gazed into hazel meaningfully as they both tried to reclaim their breath. Hermione, despite her discomfort, had to stifle a giggle as she took in Draco's wildly mussed up blonde hair.

"We've only just started dating following some years that really wreaked havoc on the friendship we had. And now that we are together, now that we _can_ be together, I-I don't want to rush. I want to enjoy this with you. I don't want to jump into a super serious relationship just because we thought we were never going to have one. Am I making any sense at all?" Hermione explained nervously, wringing her hands and avoiding eye contact until the very end.

Draco looked a little lost but only because her proximity to him always wreaked havoc on his sensibilities. "Maybe?"

"I just-is it okay if we take some time? To get used to being a couple rather than a couple of friends. I'm new to this whole dating thing, as you well know, and I just want to enjoy it. We were kids rushed into war, forced to be adults. And I know that we are adults now, but this part of me, with you, somehow still feels like a kid. And I kind of want to savor that, you know?" she elaborated.

"So, you're saying that you do still want to date me, but you want to take things slow?" Draco questioned to clarify her anxious request. She nodded warily, looking prepared for him to blow up. To her surprise, he laughed. He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her back down on top of him. "Of course we can take things slow, Hermione. Don't ever for a minute be afraid to ask me something like that!" he scolded her teasingly. He pressed a kiss to each rosy cheek. "Nothing about this relationship has been normal, friends or more than. We have all the time in the world to work it out now at whatever pace you like. But, may I ask what brought this on? Or was it just _that_ in particular?"

Hermione glanced around at their new surroundings. "We just moved in together, basically, and the adultiness just kind of hit me like a brick."

"Adultiness?" he echoed amusedly. Draco bit back a cry when she hit him in the arm. "So violent."

"You know what I mean," Hermione sighed in exasperation. "We've only just become a couple and now we're living together. I mean, you only just turned 18! For so long I've felt like a child masquerading as an adult, and that feeling just got stronger. Of age or not, we're still children, and I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Draco nodded in understanding. "I understand that, I really do."

"Thank you."

A few moments later they disentangled themselves from each other and readied themselves for bed. There was an awkward moment when they were unsure of their sleeping arrangements. Hermione was debating whether admitting she didn't want to be alone would completely contradict her previous wishes of not rushing into things. Before she could come to a conclusion, Draco, sure that taking things slow meant not sharing a bed, bid a torn Hermione a good night and retreated into one of the bedrooms.

Hermione lasted about two sleepless hours before admitting defeat. The young girl gathered up her favorite plush horse and tiptoed her way down the hall. To her relief, his door was wide open. She snuck in, praying there was nothing for her to trip over. Draco was sprawled out on one half of the Queen sized bed, his face buried in the pillow. There, on the pillow his face wasn't smashed into, rested a plush kangaroo. Hermione beamed.

Trying her best not to wake him, Hermione lifted the covers and slid into the bed. She curled up against Draco's warm body, eyes falling shut contently.

"Sharing a bed, are we now, Granger?" a muffled voice questioned. Darkness was on her side as it concealed her sheepish blush. "Do you mind?" she whispered into the dark. She felt him shift beside her before he scooped her into his arms. His sluggish movements told her he was more asleep than awake, but she didn't care. She knew he really didn't mind.

"I'm sorry if I confused you earlier," she apologized, half assuming he had already fallen back to sleep. "I didn't mean to tease you like that. Well, then again, maybe I didn't. Maybe you don't want… _that_."

"Granger, if you think for one minute that my agreeing to take things slow means that I don't want to shag your brains out, then you must be daft. Now shut it and go to sleep," Draco sighed as he settled in beside her.

Shocked as she was by his sleep driven honesty, her lips curled into a small grin. He wanted her but was willing to wait until she was ready. Hermione pressed a lingering kiss to his temple that, unbeknownst to her in the dark, left him smiling too.

* * *

Draco yawned sleepily, half awake, and shifted himself closer to Hermione. By doing so, he realized what had woken him up was her. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, the blonde propped himself up on his elbow. "Hermione?" But her name fell on deaf ears. He fumbled to switch on the lamp beside the bed when he realized she was whimpering.

Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead in the dim light. Her face was scrunched up in discomfort, her limbs twitching. Draco tried to gently shake her awake. The two were never surprised to wake up to the other's nightmare. For some reason, that night felt different to Draco. And the minute she started screaming bloody murder, he knew why.

"Hermione! Hermione, it's not real! Wake up!" he begged, trying not to scare her even worse than what he knew she was dreaming of. Hermione's eyes flew open at his urgent tone. Draco fell back as she shot upright, gulping in great breaths.

"It's okay, love, she's not here. She's dead. She's dead," Draco murmured gently. He risked reaching a hand out to the trembling girl twisted up in his sheets. His face was grim, guilty for having been related to such a monster. "I'm so sorry."

She simply stared at him with petrified eyes. He cradled her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. "She's dead. You're safe, you brave, brave witch."

Hermione threw her arms around him, tackling him back onto the bed. He knotted one hand into her curls and held her tightly to him as she sobbed months' worth of pain into the crook of his neck.

* * *

"Come on, let me make you some tea," Draco offered sweetly. Hermione frowned as he shifted out of her arms and stood. "Tea? It's three in the morning."

But he was already in the kitchen. Sighing, Hermione rubbed her eyes, embarrassed at having cried, yet again, and shuffled through the dark hallway. Draco had his back to her when she entered their small kitchen. His hands were braced on the counter, his shoulders hunched forward with his head hung. It whipped up in surprise as he felt arms snake their way around his stomach.

Draco tsked, "The idea was for me to make the tea so you could stay in bed."

"You take such good care of me, Draco," Hermione said gratefully. Hearing her odd tone, Draco turned around in the cage of her arms. She craned her neck up to look at him. "Why am I sensing some kind of 'You're too good to me' crap?" he questioned disapprovingly.

Hermione couldn't keep eye contact with those fierce silver eyes. "Hermione, I will be forever groveling at your feet to make up for everything I've ever done to you. I mean, you've just had a nightmare about my mental aunt. I refuse to do the, 'No, I'm the one who doesn't deserve you' nonsense," Draco informed her, tilting her chin up to look at him. "Do you want me?"

"Yes."

"And I want you."

"Good."

Draco let out a laugh at that. She loved it when he laughed. It happened so rarely. Even thousands of miles away from the life he'd once known, Draco hadn't completely shed his stoic pureblood manner. It was usually private moments like this when he let go, and he only ever did so around her. She beamed as he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Draco? What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he responded, taking her hand in his, the other resting on the small of her back. She giggled girlishly as he started to sway. She followed his lead with a much lighter heart than when she had woken up just minutes ago. "You know, I wanted to dance with you in the worst way at the Yule Ball," he said as they danced to the hum of their newly rented flat, of their unlikely love.

Hermione rested her head against his chest. "You are terribly corny, you know?"

She felt his shrug, but he had no other retort. After a few minutes of quiet, she finally asked, "You really wanted to dance with me?"

"Of course. You looked like a dream. And I know you told me that you wanted to go with Krum, but I still wish it could've been me," Draco admitted, twirling her. He delighted in the amused laughter he was inciting. Her nightmare had worried him more than he let on, so he was pleased to see her happy.

"You know it couldn't have been you," she pointed out as she bumped back into him. Goofy smiles lit up their faces as they met again. "If Harry's entrance in the tournament had been earth shattering, what would me showing up with you have done?"

"Please. It would have been the other way around. _I_ would have shown up with _you_ ," Draco scoffed playfully. She stepped on his toes in response, feigning innocence when he grumbled at her. "The way you acted then, you'd have been so lucky to stand within ten feet of me," she argued, knowing he couldn't refute it.

"You were still beautiful, even if I was too much of a prat about you going with Krum to admit it."

"Well, that's all behind us now, isn't it? So, dance with me, Draco Malfoy."

"I already am."

"Just ruin the moment why don't you?" she chided with a laugh. They fell quiet, so close their hearts beat against each other in a rhythm they'd never find on any radio.

"Hermione? It's not all behind us, is it?" Draco murmured sadly, breaking the peace of their little moment. She thought about ignoring his question, content to just sway in their little kitchen, the rest of the world a distant memory. But she couldn't. "No. It's not."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It was B-Bellatrix. That's all," Hermione said dismissively. She felt him tense against her. "Well, not _all_. But I don't want you to feel guilty about it. There was nothing you could've done." His grip on her tightened in response to her words. "Hermione," he murmured, his voice rough with the emotion he usually tried so hard to harness, "I…"

She pulled her head away just enough to gaze up at him expectantly.

"You saved me, Hermione," Draco said, his voice cracking. "I just wish I could have returned the favor."

Something in her melted. "You have, Draco. Little moments like this, slow dancing in the kitchen in the middle of the night. It's perfect. You're perfect. I don't regret or begrudge the path that led us here."

Hermione saw the traitorous tears welling up in his eyes but ignored them entirely, knowing acknowledging them would embarrass him. Draco couldn't help but love the witch more for it. He held her impossibly closer. "You saved me," he repeated in a whisper. "From my family, my fate, myself. You saved me."

His admission was their undoing. Their tears spilled over together as they danced in the dark.

* * *

"This is it," Draco said dramatically, "I feel it this time."

Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance, but he knew she was only trying to cover her nerves. "And what if it's not?"

"And you said I was the pessimist?" Draco retorted with his trademark Malfoy smirk on his lips. She elbowed him in the ribs. He shied away crying, "Abuse!"

"Shut it, you idiot!" Hermione snapped in a contradictory loving tone. He winked at her and bent forward in an exaggerated bow. He offered her his hand, asking, "Shall we?"

"We shall," she giggled. His dramatics knew no bounds when he tried to make her smile.

A startling blast of frigid air assaulted her as she stepped through the door Draco held open for her. She felt his comforting presence behind her as she took a deep breath. Steeling herself for whatever outcome they might find, Hermione made her way to the front desk.

"Hello. My name is Hermione Granger," she began politely. The bored receptionist swiveled her chair around to face her. Her disinterested eyes sparked to life when she caught sight of the formidable blonde standing beside the girl. "I'm looking for some people. My parents are dentists back home in England, you see, and they have some friends here. I was hoping to see them. My parents said that last they knew, they worked here."

"All of the dentists employed by this office have their pictures on the wall over by the TV," the red head receptionist informed stiffly before turning back to her computer. Hermione frowned at the rudeness but made her way to the said TV without a word of complaint. She eagerly searched the faces, praying to any deity that might be listening to find her parents faces.

Draco could tell by her suddenly slumped shoulders that it was another bust. He slipped his hand into hers and dragged her out of the building. Once outside, he draped an arm across her shoulders and guided her down the street. "There two more offices we haven't checked in this city. What do you say we stop for lunch and hit the other two afterwards?"

He relished her appreciative smile but hated how much each disappointment was affecting her more negatively. They still had plenty of fun, more than he ever had in his life, but he could see the toll the search was taking on her. He begged Merlin to help them find her parents as soon as possible. Draco wanted nothing but happiness for the witch at his side, and he wasn't going to rest until they were found.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Hope you liked it! I couldn't resist a cute little scene with these two, I love them! I had a little section at the very end that I had to take out because it was getting a bit long. But fear not because it's turned into the next Hermione/Draco chapter. It's already half written which is both good and bad. Good because, yay, I'm writing and loving it! Bad because I need a Harry and George chapter in between haha. But I have ideas for that one as well. So hopefully I'll have two chapters for you in the next week! =)_**


	13. Guilty Revelations

_Chapter Thirteen_  
 _Guilty Revelations_

Harry, who had come to Australia with the intent to use magic as sparingly as possible, to reacquaint himself with his Muggle heritage, was failing miserably at it. His need for magic was not great, but his desire to know Cassie was. What the girl wanted, he gave her. And what she wanted was magic.

Usually a girl who prided herself for her maturity, Cassie was reduced to childish awe as her grey eyes followed the ghostly stag prance through the air around her. Harry's patronus bathed them in a soft sky blue glow, lighting the pitch blackness of night with its pure happiness. The raven haired boy wasn't afraid to admit that he had no issue keeping his patronus corporeal for so long, and that seeing her beautiful face light up with innocent joy was just the reason for it.

It was three in the morning on the most secluded cove they dared trek to in the dead of the night. White tipped waves licked at Cassie's feet, her toes dug into the wet sand. She knew that Harry had been skeptical when she showed up at his door and suggested a midnight rendezvous. Well, he had initially agreed with very little skepticism until she explained the reason behind the late hour. She understood that sharing his magic was probably a very personal thing, but she couldn't resist asking.

It was a world that had been denied to her for so long she should have forgotten about it. But how could such a world of wonder be forgotten? It wasn't that she was bitter over having been born magicless, but that it was what had directly led to her removal from her life. After hearing the horrors of the war from the various witches and wizards that happened through Quarry Bay, she was glad that she had not been a part of it. She had never had magic so she couldn't really miss it. But she did have a family, and terrible as it might have been, she'd had it, and its loss was something she couldn't help but lament.

"Why does it feel so…happy?" she wondered. At the sound of her voice, the stag burst into a brilliant blue shower of magic, its wispy tendrils raining down on them. As the darkness once again enveloped them, Harry answered, "Because it's meant to keep dementors away. And you have to have a purely happy thought to conjure one."

"It's beautiful. Are they all stags?"

Harry shook his head before realizing she probably couldn't see it in the dark. "No. They're all different. They form as something that means a lot to you or reflects who you are. My father was an animagus-he could transform into an animal. And he would turn into a stag, so that's where it comes from I guess."

"I wonder what mine would have been," Cassie said dreamily. Harry settled into the sand behind her. Once again he wished she had been born with magic. The only Squib he had ever known had been Filch. And for obvious reasons, he'd not given the man's lack of magic much thought. Perhaps it was shallow that it took a pretty girl to make him realize the tragedy of it. Knowing about magic, being a part of the world, but not being able to practice it. It just seemed cruel.

"I think yours would have been a platypus," Harry joked to keep her smiling. She whipped her head around in shock and shoved him to the ground. "You take that back, Harry Potter!" Cassie demanded. Harry let out pretend cries of anguish as she smacked him with her pink flip flop. "Conquered Voldemort, defeated by flip flop!" the blonde giggled victoriously.

Knowing it would only increase her fake anger, he begged dramatically, "Stop, my little platypus, stop!"

* * *

"Now that we're acting like mature adults again," Harry teased, bumping his shoulder against Cassie's, "Will you tell me more? I know you said you couldn't tell me who your family was. But what about you? How did they find out you were-"

Cassie flipped her white blond locks over her shoulder as she thought about it. "Well, they did love me, as much as they could for who they were. Before they realized, that is. My brother figured it out first. I don't know how. I was so confused, the first time he told me. He tried to explain but when I didn't understand, he made a strange request. He asked me to take credit for the next strange thing that happened. The 'strange thing' being his accidental magic, I later realized. We were already inseparable, so it would've been hard to tell who it came from. For a young boy, he really was quite smart.

"We managed to fool our parents for some time, almost a year. I'm not sure how he figured it out, my father, but when he did, it was terrible. He-he took his anger out on my brother, threatening to deal with me later. I still remember the spell he used, and Harry, I don't know hardly any spells…" Her voice trailed off, thick with emotion. Harry draped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. "My mother dragged me from the room after my father started the spell, but I could still hear him screaming. That was the last time I saw my brother."

The weight of her words anchored them both to the harsh reality of her early life. Harry, ever the protector, wanted to shield her from the painful memories more than anything. Cassie didn't cry, but he wouldn't have judged her if she had. His own recent experience with the curse he worried she remembered left him feeling cold and helpless. Like her, he had heard the screams of a loved one at the curse's hands.

"The spell you remember him saying…it was Crucio, wasn't it?" Harry wondered slowly, hoping he wasn't bringing back too hurtful a memory. Cassie stiffened against him. She pulled away from him, her wide eyes searching his face for answers he could probably never give her. "How did you know that?"

Cassie felt him release a heavy sigh. "During the war, when my mates and I were on the run, we were captured by snatchers. While two of us were locked in a dungeon we could hear her. My friend, Hermione," Harry choked up at the name, "They tortured her. Using that same curse and others. I hear her screams in my dreams."

Cassie didn't know how to respond to his admission. Once Harry had realized she knew his general story, he had retold his 'woes' from their first date with the unedited version. The version that included magic and Voldemort and far more loss. But he had never gone into such detail. She knew the names of his best mates, Ron and Hermione, but he didn't say much more about them. From his tone that day, she could tell there was an unresolved issue with his friend, Ron, who she had learned was George's brother. Hermione, on the other hand was different. When he said her name, there was a sadness that made her nervous.

"Harry, your friend, Hermione…she didn't…die, did she?" For a moment, the way he froze Cassie was worried she had. But then he relaxed and shook his head. "No, no. Merlin, I don't know what I would've done if she had. That night, I thought they would kill her, but we were rescued. But not before some…damage was done. She didn't talk about it. She never had time to. There was so much left to be done and time was running out, everyone depending on us whether they knew it or not. I've never met anyone as brave as her. To keep going after something like that…" Harry ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "After the final battle, I talked to her briefly before I got pulled away. Something seemed wrong, more than what we had been through, but I didn't get a chance to ask. When I went to find her, she was gone. She left a note for Ron and me."

"What did it say?"

"Boys, I'm sorry for doing this to you, but please, don't worry about me. There is so much to say but I just don't know how to say. I hope one day you'll understand. I love you," Harry said automatically as if he'd repeated it too many times before. "That was it. We haven't heard from her since. It was one of the many things Ron and I disagreed over. Whether to go looking for her. I argued that we shouldn't, otherwise she wouldn't have left the way she did in the first place. Ron was intent on having the three of us together, as always. I hated that she was gone, but I tried to understand. She had to give up so much, and she went through more than we'll ever understand. But I do wish she'd let us know she was okay."

Cassie thought about her own best friend, the loveable Becs, and tried to imagine her disappearing the way Hermione had. She couldn't. "Do you think she ever will?"

At that, Harry let out a laugh. "I'm sure of it. Even if we had tried to look for her, we never would. The girl knows how to stay hidden. Knowing Hermione, she'll burst back into our lives out of the blue and scold us for fretting over her, as if she couldn't survive on her own after keeping the three of us alive for a year. I'm not worried about her, really, but I do miss her."

"She sounds feisty, I think I'd like her."

"Feisty doesn't even begin to cover it," Harry said with an amused grin. "She'll talk to me when she wants to. But as for you, I'm afraid you haven't got a choice but to talk to me. So, tell me about meeting your adoptive parents."

Cassie beamed at the boy beside her. She was overwhelmed by the multitudes of emotions that struck her as she took in his crooked smile, his mossy green eyes, his midnight black hair tinted blue by the moon. He was everything, shy yet confident, reserved yet impulsive, serious yet funny. But the one thing that didn't conflict itself about him was what intrigued her the most. He liked her. Unlike his other traits, there was no back and forth, no contradiction to it. She could tell, plain and simple, that he liked her. She knew they weren't quite ready for it, but she liked him, too.

* * *

"So, Cassie, I see you've been spending quite a lot of your time with a certain renter of mine," Helen observed casually as she set the girl's drink in front of her. Cassie's head whipped up to meet her wink. Her cheeks flushed scarlet, and she found herself cursing her forever pale skin for betraying her yet again.

"I have maybe spent _some_ time with him," Cassie answered slowly as to not give too much away. She desperately wanted someone to talk to about it. Sure, she could have girl talk with Becs, but so much had to be edited that there wasn't much left to be said. She was nervous about broaching the topic with her mother's best friend, her aunt that wasn't really her aunt.

Helen had known Cassie since she first moved in with Matthew and Natalie Viera. Cassie had discovered Helen's true heritage shortly after meeting her. But with her recent departure from wizarding Britain and the horrors she had lived through, she kept her mouth shut. She never wanted to incite the wrath of magic again. And that fear had kept her silent. Until now.

Harry had shown her the pure wonder it could bring, reminded her that it wasn't all to be feared. And she felt so conflicted that she felt she had no choice but to talk to Helen before she burst.

"Cassie, are you alright, love bug?" Helen wondered. The genuine concern in her voice and the use of her childhood nickname comforted Cassie. She scolded herself for being worried at all.

"I will be. Helen, there's something I have to tell you. Something I should have told you years ago…" Cassie began.

* * *

While Cassie was pouring her hidden life story out to Helen, George was gloating over Becs.

"And the student has become the master!" he cried in delight as Becs splashed salt water at him in a show of irritation. "Hardly. Just because you managed to catch a wave I couldn't means nothing."

"Nothing? It means everything!" he exclaimed, tackling her and sending them both under the surface. Becs, her usually blonde curls darkened by the water, burst above the waves, seeing red. She wasn't going to let George get away with that. Salt water up the nose was no laughing matter.

With a fake shriek of terror at her livid expression, George smartly started swimming for the safety of the shore. Still more at home in the ocean than he, Becs overtook him quite easily and tackled him onto the sand. They wrestled around playfully, their laughter drawing the attention of some nearby surfers. They ignored them quite contently until they flopped onto their backs exhausted.

"Would it make things weird if I told you that you're my best mate?" George wondered suddenly as they lay side by side in the sand. He turned his head to find her already looking at him. "Well, if it did, it's a little too late to be worried about it, isn't it?" she observed with a quiet laugh. She rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. "But no, it's not weird. I can't say you'd be my only best mate, though. I've got Cassie. You've got Harry."

"You're my best friend that's a girl then?" George clarified, his chapped lips curving into a hopeful smile.

"And you're my best guy friend?"

George's sunny smile was all the answer she needed. "Wicked. Now, why the declaration of best friendship?"

She giggled when George dramatically threw his hands in the air. "My God, woman, how do you do that? You see right through me!"

"It's a gift. Now spill."

George suddenly looked nervous and maybe a little guilty. "Well, just now. It hit me that there's very few people I've ever been so at home with, so comfortable with. And then it got me thinking about Harry."

Becs frowned. "Okay, not where I thought this was going…"

She decided she liked a sheepish George when he bit his bottom lip as he formulated his next thought. "He mentioned his best friend to you, right? The one who left with hardly a word?"

"Yeah, some long name with an H," Becs answered vaguely.

"Hermione. Her name's Hermione," George said with a sigh.

"Okay, and this has you acting all weird because…?"

"Well, I knew he missed her, but it wasn't until I started getting really close to you that I began to understand just how much. I thought about how I'd feel if you ran off. And it wasn't great," George admitted, avoiding her gaze.

Becs felt all warm and fuzzy inside and it wasn't from the sun beating down on them. "Aw, Red, you're so sappy!"

George sighed. "It made me realize if someone knew where you'd gone, I'd want them to tell me." His unusually shaky tone worried her. She reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before releasing it. Her gaze followed him as he sat up and rubbed his face with a groan. "I'm feeling like the world's worst friend now for keeping a promise to another friend."

"George?"

His eyes finally locked on hers and she could see the confusion warring in them. "Becs, Hermione told me she was leaving. Made me promise not to tell."

"Oh. Well, I mean, she was leaving anyway. Telling Harry now wouldn't make much difference."

"There's more," George said softly, "I know _why_ she left, where she's going. And maybe he could forgive me for not telling him that. But I also know she's not alone. And if he knew who she was with, and that I helped him, and not Harry, find her before she ran off for good, he'd never speak to me again."

She sat up to accept the envelope he dug out from his bag. Inside, she found a letter and a picture. A pretty brunette with curls that put hers to shame had her arms wrapped around the waist of a tall blonde boy that seemed vaguely familiar to her. His arm was draped across her shoulders, his eyes trained on her rather than whoever had taken the picture. One corner of his mouth was curved upwards, as if he was trying not to smile. The hazel eyed girl had a brilliant smile that shouted happiness. Becs didn't know the couple in the photograph, but she couldn't help but smile.

She set the photograph back inside the envelope and unfolded the letter it came with.

"Dear George," Becs read, glancing over at the ginger, "I can't thank you enough for getting Draco off his arse to come find me. I thought he was dead, you see, that's why I left the way I did. But you and your love for meddling brought him back to life, or so it seemed. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. But for those few weeks, I felt your pain. I can only hope that you're doing okay, and that you can forgive me for so selfishly taking off. Draco is taking such amazing care of me, you'd never believe he was in Slytherin. I hope that you have found something you can take comfort in. Again, I'm sorry, and this time for making you promise not to tell anyone I was leaving. Draco or not, I needed time away to…cope. We're getting through it. Anyway, the real reason I'm writing to you, other than hoping you're surviving, is that I wanted to let you know I _will_ be coming home eventually. Draco and I are trying to find my parents. Once we found them, and we will find them, or so he says, we'll bring them home. I'll deal with…everything else then. Love you so terribly much, Forge."

George sighed when she finished. "Okay, so there's a lot going on here…" Becs worked out.

"None of that is what's making me feel guilty, Becs. She's like a sister to me and he makes her happy for some reason, so I don't regret what I did. But I promised her I'd keep my mouth shut. The part of the letter you didn't read is why I feel so torn," George explained, unfolding the letter one more time to reveal an added message at the bottom.

"P.S. We're not sure how long it'll take to find my parents but in the meantime, we are absolutely loving Australia!" Becs read aloud, the last word coming out in a gasp. Understanding washed over her and his grim look worried her. "Oh, George, she's _here?_ "

* * *

 _ **A/N: Longest chapter yet! Are you happy? Poor George, he's too good a friend! I missed him last time so I made sure he had more than a brief appearance. A lot of the next chapter with the boys will be about George. We may or may not be learning how George knew about Hermione and Draco! ;) Hope you liked it! Please let me know if you did :)**_


	14. Completely and Utterly

_Chapter Fourteen  
Completely and Utterly_

Once at the little corner cafe they decided to stop in, Hermione knew something was up with Draco. He kept opening his mouth like he was about to say something before snapping it shut again. Halfway through their meal, she couldn't take it anymore.

"What? You're obviously trying to say something. What is it?"

Draco eyed her uncertainly, sighing as he set down his knife and fork. "Does Potter know where you are? Who you're with?"

"I-what?"

"Potter. The Weasel. You haven't mentioned either of them once in, what's it been? Two months?"

"Three. The month before you showed up, too. I left as soon as I could get away after...George and Ginny were the only ones who knew I was leaving. I didn't tell Ron or Harry then and I still haven't now."

"Why not?"

"What do you care? You hate them," she snapped defensively, knowing that the way she left them behind was more than selfish.

"I know, but they are/were your best friends. I guess I figured you were in constant contact for a year that you might've told them you were leaving or where you were going."

"I couldn't. If they had known, they would have tried to stop me. And they would have succeeded. I know it's selfish, but I had to get away from all of it."

"Because you thought I was dead?"

Hermione didn't answer right away. Finally, she sighed and said, "Yes…and no. Obviously thinking you were dead left me…I don't even want to think about it. But regardless, I would have done the same, I think."

"Really?" There was no judgement, just simple curiosity.

"Yes. I remember standing in the Great Hall and just-just wanting it all to end. There were so many bodies. People I've known for what feels like forever. The castle that had been my beloved home was practically reduced to rubble. And I realized, seeing the destruction around me, the castle in ruins-it was nothing compared to what I felt like the war had done to me," Hermione explained slowly.

Draco, understanding that his curious inquiry had led to a darker place than he'd ever imagined, rose from his seat across from her and settled in beside her. She curled up against him, and he wrapped an arm around her.

"I knew I couldn't stay," she continued, "because I knew that there would be no getting over you. Not any time soon, anyway. And, selfishly, all I could think, while surrounded by my suffering friends, was that none of them could ever understand. I mean, they'd all just lost someone, too, but the difference was that no one knew that I had lost you. I knew I wouldn't be able to hide it. How are you meant to grieve for someone if nobody had any idea you had a reason to mourn them in the first place?"

He realized after a few moments passed in silence that her question wasn't rhetorical. "I-I don't know."

"It was hard enough pretending to hate you all those years. And my year on the run with Harry and Ron and not a word from you…I thought that was hell. But it was nothing compared to realizing that no one would understand the real reason I was inconsolable that night. And everything just hit me at once. Giving up my parents, being on the run, being tort-" She cut herself off and Draco pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "And I just couldn't handle it. I pretended for years that I wasn't absolutely terrified and I felt it all that night when I thought you were gone."

"Hermione, I'm so sorry you had to deal with all that yourself," Draco murmured mournfully, yet again amazed by the strength of the witch, knowing that she had continued to go on.

"I wasn't alone, but I felt I was. I shouldn't have, surrounded by Harry and the Weasley's and Neville and Luna and the whole lot of them, but I did. You stupid git!" she exclaimed suddenly as she pulled herself away from him. His bewildered expression drew a laugh out of her. "When did you start to mean so much to me? You utterly ruined me!"

Hermione watched in fascination as the dark charcoal eyes softened to a molten silver. He captured her smile with his lips. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers. "I don't know, but I've adored you since I was 15."

"You sappy git," Hermione teased warmly. She stole a kiss herself before picking at her plate again. "I haven't a clue why I thought going to my family's reunion was a good idea. I needed some comfort and I went to a place with nothing but criticism. I mean, Uncle Amos and his family are wonderful. That was good for me. I ignored them for two years hoping it would keep them safe. It felt good to know they still love me. The rest of them, however…"

Draco grinned and finished her sentence. "Are very fond of young, blonde strangers bursting through the door demanding for Granger who then stay for dinner?"

"Terribly fond, yes. It's a yearly occurrence, you know?" Hermione's honey brown eyes twinkled and he was lost to them. "Anyway, it was a good thing you found me before I left for Australia. I'm not sure I would have had the strength to keep positive alone."

"So, I'm not just the money?" She rolled her eyes at his cheeky grin but couldn't bite back a smile. That day in the airport when he told her to worry about nothing but finding her parents was a fond memory. "No, not just the money."

Despite loving the look she was giving him, he refused to let her distract him further from his original question. "Are you ever going to talk to them?"

She scooted away from him, frustrated that he saw through her. He kissed the back of her neck as she hung her head. "They're your best mates. You know I don't like them very much, but they do mean a lot to you."

"I can't believe how much you've grown up, Draco," Hermione admitted in awe. He scowled in an attempt to discourage the thought. "It doesn't mean I want them around. I just hate to see you feeling guilty about keeping them in the dark."

Hermione crossed her arms, officially done with her meal. Her stomach was too upset to finish. "Is it bad that I'm still afraid?"

"Of what?"

"Them. What they'll think about us." It came out as a murmur he could hardly hear over the din of the little café. His initial understanding of the words had him frowning. When she saw it, Hermione grabbed his hand, and rushed, "No, not like that. There's not a person on earth that is going to change my mind about being with you. If it came to some silly ultimatum like, 'Pick us or him', I wouldn't hesitate for a second to pick you. But I _would_ still hate to lose them. That's seven years of friendship. What I'm afraid of is that they'll take it so badly that those seven years will mean nothing to them. And call me a coward, but right now I don't think I could deal with knowing I don't mean enough for them to grow up and accept us."

Recognizing when Hermione needed cheering up, Draco paid the bill and pulled her to her feet. As they walked arm in arm down the sidewalk, Draco said, "Hermione, if they can throw seven years of friendship out the window because they disagree on who you spend time with, then they don't deserve you. Take it from someone who gave up everything to have a chance to stand beside you, you're worth it. You've let them determine your worth since day one. Don't argue with me, it's true. But know that it's never too late to start over. If they can't accept your decisions, forget them, and let's start something new."

"I love it how you can simultaneously insult them yet support my friendship with them, Draco," Hermione said. He rolled his eyes, playing it off as nothing. "It's not like I'm begging you to write them or anything. I just want you to know that you don't have to worry about me if you do. Not that you would ever let me stop you, but in case you got some idea in your head that it might bother me. I know you too well not to think that."

Hermione would never ceased to be amazed by how much the boy at her side had changed. It had started during their fourth year, and she had been hopeful, but she could never have guessed he'd come so far. Her heart swelled with love for him, even as he went out of his way to deepen his haughty scowl to cover the fact that he had just been incredibly sweet and understanding. She kissed the scowl away, taking him by surprise.

"What was that for?" he wondered, though not really looking for an answer. She could kiss him any time she wanted. He bit back a groan when she gazed up at him through her lashes, shy smile on her lips. Merlin, he wanted her. "You're incredible, that's all," she whispered before continuing her way down the street. Draco let out a content sigh and chased after the witch.

As he fell into step beside her, she suggested, "How about this? We'll return to England once I've found my parents. We'll deal with everything and everyone then. Would that work?"

Not overly eager to return to the country that held so many nightmares for him, Draco agreed reluctantly. It helped when she smiled at him with that smile she always reserved just for him. He couldn't deny her anything when she gave him that smile and she knew it all too well. "And Scarhead and Weasel?"

Hermione's teeth trapped her bottom lip as she thought about her friends. Draco had to practice his self-restraint yet again. She was so innocently naïve about how beautiful she was to him. Little things like that drove him mental, and she hadn't a clue. Merlin, help him.

"I'm not sure. I don't think I'm ready. What if I send George a letter instead? He obviously knows I've gone and that you're with me. We'll tell him that we'll come home when we've found my parents. I know he'll keep our secret, and that way at least one person knows."

"Okay, if that's what you want."

"Excuse me, sir," Hermione called out to a middle aged gentleman who was exiting the store they were approaching. The dark haired gentleman looked to her expectantly as she held out her camera to him. "Would you please take our picture?"

With a pleasant grin, the man agreed and waited for them to pose.

Hermione snaked her arms around Draco's waist as he draped an arm across her shoulders. He leaned down and whispered, "What are we doing?" Smiling already, she answered, "We're giving George proof that it's still possible to be happy in this dreadful world."

Just before the man took the picture, Draco couldn't contain it any longer. He had been trying to find a time to say it for weeks. He'd wanted to tell her since the night Dumbledore died. He often wished he'd had the courage to say it then. Somehow, he still lacked it. He'd never uttered the words aloud to anyone, but he knew what he felt for the unbelievable witch in his arms was more real than anything he'd ever known.

Head still bent down by her ear, Draco finally said it. Years of angst over it melted away, and in the end, it simply rolled right off his tongue. "Hermione Jean Granger, I am completely and utterly in love with you."

The camera's flash went off a second later. Hermione whipped her head up to face him, a look of pure wonder on her face. She thanked the man when he returned her camera, so flustered she could barely manage to string the two words together. Her eyes never once left Draco's. His pale cheeks were painted red but his lips were twitched up in a confident smile. "I've been in love with you for years, and I don't know why it's taken me this long to say it."

"You-you love me?" Hermione squeaked, her hazel eyes wide as the moon. He raised his hands to cup her face gently, and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. "More than anything."

Hermione could hardly breathe. She was cursing herself for her girlish reaction. It never occurred to her that she would be so flustered by his confession of love that she wouldn't be able to formulate her reciprocal feelings. Draco suddenly looked unsure of himself, though his hands never left her face. Their warmth ran through her veins and ignited a fire in her that had been merely smoldering since her run in with Bellatrix.

"Draco," Hermione breathed, her voice shaky, "I love you-"

But Draco was impatient, and she didn't get to finish before his lips came crashing down onto hers. Hermione always thought that everyone who talked about sparks and fireworks were simply overdramatic. And it wasn't quite electricity that she felt. As they kissed, every ineffable emotion poured into it, it felt like finally returning to the blissful safety of home after a long trip, jetlagged, exhausted, and homesick. She was family-less in a foreign land and she felt like she was home.

Gasping for air, Hermione pulled away from the kiss. "You git," she panted, "Couldn't even-let me-finish." But Draco wasn't done with her yet, and she couldn't help but smile against his lips.

* * *

"There, that should do it, right?"

Draco leaned over her shoulder and skimmed over the letter. "I think its fine. He's a good lad, George. I do hope he's alright," he said honestly. He would be forever grateful to the ginger for helping him get his happy ending with the witch of his dreams. "I do still wonder how he and Ginny knew about us."

Hermione clearly was too focused to hear him. She chewed anxiously on her pen, reviewing her work. Draco had pulled her hair into a ponytail for her when she kept huffing every time it got in her way. To say she had been surprised would be an understatement. She couldn't help the thrill that awakened every nerve in her body when she thought about the fact that he loved her. It still hadn't quite sunk in yet.

"You don't think he'll hate me for waiting so long to write, do you? I mean, the last time he saw me was in May, and it's already August."

"Of course he won't. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear from you," Draco said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before he made his way to the bed. He flopped down on it without any of the grace that his mother had instilled in him. Draco was half asleep by the time Hermione crawled onto the bed with him. Her smile greeted him when he blearily blinked open his eyes.

"It's not even nine o' clock, sleepy head," Hermione teased. She didn't understand a word of the grumbles that were muffled by the blanket. "Fine, but at least take your shoes off."

With a tired sigh, Draco rolled off the bed. He snatched a pair of pajama bottoms from his dresser and left the room, mumbling something about water. When he returned, he was clad in only the green plaid bottoms she knew were a salute to his house at Hogwarts. He returned to his previous position, only he lay on his back rather than his stomach.

In the dim light of the only remaining lamp that was on, Hermione caught a glimpse of his chest. Curling up against his side, she lightly traced the zigzag scars. She was entirely conscious of his curious gaze on her, but she ignored it momentarily. The four long, thin scars had faded considerably from the first time she had seen them, only a faded pink compared to the angry red that still haunted her.

"They're just scars, Hermione," he yawned, "They don't hurt anymore."

"I know. But they still make me sad."

Despite being more asleep than awake, Draco grabbed the hand tracing his scars and brought it up to his face. He pressed a kiss to the scar she had received in his own home. "Yours makes me sad, too."

Wordlessly, Hermione reached over him and turned out the lamp on his night stand. Before she had completely settled back down, she paused over him to catch his lips with hers. "I love you, Draco."

"Merlin, I'll never get tired of hearing that," Draco sighed happily, "I love you, too. Just don't tell too many people. I have a reputation to uphold, you know?"

Merlin only knows why, but she really did love him.

Draco feigned sleep until he felt Hermione's breaths grow deep and slow. He was worried. More worried than he let on. It was only a matter of time before they found her parents. And if Hermione stayed true to her word, which he knew she would, than he'd have to return home. He hadn't wanted her to know how much Potter and Weasley finding out the truth concerned him. They were in their own little magical world now, but he knew the bliss would end the moment her friends knew the truth. They would never accept him because he knew he didn't deserve her. Loving her despite the fact only made him feel as selfish as ever.

He also knew that if he breathed a word of his doubt, his worry, that she would lengthen her silence. And he couldn't do that to her knowing how much those idiots meant to her. Even if they knew the truth of his role in the war the past few years, he knew they would still never approve. And he had been through enough to be with her that he didn't want another fight.

Draco Malfoy was no longer the coward they remembered. But he _was_ tired of fighting. He had fought for the right to be with her. Now that he had her, he wanted to lay his arms down and just live in peace.

But he was a Malfoy and he knew it would never be that simple.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Another long chapter for you! Hope you like it! And I know the time line is probably confusing, I've been rather vague about it, so I'll explain it a little better. Hermione and Draco went to Australia in June while Harry and George didn't go till November. That means that George got Hermione's letter, in which she says they're in Australia, months before Harry even suggested moving there(the real reason he feels so guilty). I'll be catching Hermione and Draco up much quicker now, and once they all meet up the time will obviously be the same.**_

 _ **Get ready for lots of George coming up! :)**_


	15. Friends or More

_Chapter Fifteen_  
 _Friends or More_

With Becs out surfing with a client and Harry most likely off with Cassie (those two were always off together the past few weeks) George found himself uncomfortably alone. And alone meant time to think. Uninterrupted thinking was dangerous for that particular Weasley. With his recent conversation with Becs, his thoughts led to Hermione Granger.

George carried a unique kind of guilt when it came to the Gryffindor bookworm. It was bad enough that he had helped Malfoy find her and not Harry. But the fact that Harry had come to him in October inviting him to move to Australia with him was so much worse. Worse because Hermione's letter had come in August. When Harry suggested Australia, George thought he had found the letter somehow. But it was just a coincidence. George went along with it. He didn't figure the chances of them running into each other were all that great, so he wasn't too worried at first. But the longer they stayed, the worse he felt for keeping it from him.

It wasn't lost on him how much Harry missed Hermione. He knew that Harry worried for her. And despite saying that he understood why she ran off the way she did, George was quite sure Harry would feel differently if he knew the real reason.

Hermione's relationship with Draco had been unexpected to say the least. He had stumbled upon it with Fred back in their seventh year, right before they'd left in the most spectacular exit Hogwarts had ever seen.

* * *

"I'm telling you, the swamp, George, we have to do it! That is what will make us legends," Fred cried enthusiastically. George wasn't sure why Fred was pushing the swamp so much. He had already agreed wholeheartedly with it. He supposed his twin was just so excited about their nearing departure that he couldn't stop talking about it. Always in the mood to talk pranks, George wasn't at all bothered by it.

"And you've got the fireworks all set, right?" George asked as they strode down the empty corridor. They arguably knew the castle better than anyone, thanks to the Marauder's Map, always taking the most remote routes. So, when the two heard voices, they were more than curious. Sneaking down the hall, the twins disillusioned themselves and set out to find whoever dared to occupy what they considered their private hallway.

"Are you actually crying about what they said?" an unimpressed voice questioned. Fred's lip curled in distaste when he recognized its owner as Draco Malfoy. By his brother's matching expression, he knew his suspicion was right. And sure enough, around the corner, their eyes fell on the haughty pureblood. It was his company that had the twins' mouths dropping.

Hermione Granger, in a Muggle outfit of jeans and a sweater, stood across from the traditional robe wearing Malfoy. The boys watched their exchanges in awe, fully prepared to come to their little bookworm's rescue.

Hermione's sobs answered him. "Yes, yes, I am," she hiccupped through her tears, "And if you're going to judge me for it, you can kindly piss off."

"Wow, the goody two shoes being rude? Unheard of," Malfoy frowned distastefully. "They're right, you know. You _are_ nothing but an insufferable know-it-all who simply can't accept being inferior to anyone."

George and Fred made to rush to her defense, ready to crush the git for making their favorite little witch cry. That was until they saw him grin from ear to ear and softly say, "And that's precisely what I love about you."

A loud sob escaped Hermione as she threw her arms around him.

Draco stood frozen in her arms for a moment before he relaxed into her embrace. He snaked his arms around her waist somewhat uncertainly before he pulled her closer. It was obvious to anyone, meaning the twins, watching that such a display of affection was still surprising to the boy. His lips were quivering as if he was trying not to smile. He may not have let a smile free, but the blonde did close his eyes and breathe out a content sigh that betrayed his stoic nature.

"They're idiots, the lot of them, for not seeing just how special you are," he murmured in her ear. She hugged him tighter in response. She let out a shaky laugh and pulled away just enough to gaze up at him through watery eyes. "You're so cheesy."

He offered her a small smile and raised his hands to her face. Wiping away her tears, he said quite simply, "There, all better."

"Thank you, Draco," she said sheepishly, "I don't know why I let them get to me sometimes. You always make me feel better."

"I have something else that will make you smile, too," he said with a wink. Her hazel eyes widened excitedly. "You got your new schedule?"

Draco nodded in confirmation. "If I were to be hosting a top secret meeting, let's say tomorrow, I don't know, this is all hypothetical, of course, I think I would have it from three to five."

"Three to five, hmm?" Hermione repeated, trying to keep a serious face. Unsurprisingly, she couldn't. Her smile broke through. "And when might you be _busy_?"

The blonde pretended to think about it for a moment. "I think my evening's booked from five thirty to seven."

"I still can't believe you joined that horrible group just to help us," Hermione sighed, shaking her head at him in wonder. His alabaster cheeks were tinged with pink as he tried to play it off. "I get a shiny badge and the okay to vocally hate on Potter and Weasel, it's not _so_ terrible."

She hit him playfully in the chest and scolded, "Don't say that. As if you don't already do that anyway. And I believe my name is included there as well."

"Yes, but I don't actually hate _you_ , remember?" Draco reminded her as if he was constantly doing so. "For some reason, I actually enjoy your presence."

Hermione smiled happily, tears already a distant memory. "I would hope there's more than _one_ reason."

Draco stepped out of their embrace and crossed his arms. He narrowed his eyes at her but without any of the malice they usually held. "Okay, so maybe there's two." Chuckling, he ducked away from her as she tried swatting at him again. "Kidding, kidding. Such a violent thing, aren't you?"

"What? Not still traumatized by that punch from third year, are you?" Hermione teased.

Draco's face darkened. "You broke my bloody nose!"

Hermione shrugged, clearly unapologetic. "You deserved it then. You're much better now. Less of a prick."

"Thanks," he said sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Hermione chirped brightly. "Hey, so do you want to get to work?"

At her question, Draco straightened up and nodded seriously. Hermione beamed at him. "Excellent. Okay, so at our last meeting we went over some simple shielding spells…"

Fred and George, completely flabbergasted, proceeded to watch Hermione Granger give Draco Malfoy the very lesson they learned in their last DA meeting. The meetings that apparently had remained secret for so long because Malfoy joined the Inquisitorial Squad to ensure it. They were…friends?

"Merlin's beard, George," Fred whispered in amazement, "Is the world ending? Are you seeing what I'm seeing? I don't-but they-and smiles-jokes-I-"

George patted his brother on the back, concerned that he was short-circuiting. In contrast to Fred's disbelief, George had a mischievous grin on his face. "It seems so. What a brilliant plot twist! I can't wait to hold this over her pretty little head the next time she goes all perfect prefect on us!"

* * *

Fred and George never did hold it over her head. They had never brought it up, trusting Hermione's judgement. Despite not actively looking into it, George knew that the relationship had not ended there. He had always liked Hermione, feisty little witch she was, but never paid her too close of attention. Once he knew about her unusual friendship, however, he had begun to notice things he never would have previously. The secret notes she would read when she thought no one was looking, the displeasure that fell across her features whenever someone bashed the Slytherins, the way she had disappeared for two hours on Christmas her sixth year and came back grinning like a fool as she played with a necklace she hadn't been wearing when she left. The fact that it was a silver dragon with an emerald also rather gave it away.

Yes, George knew. And Ginny had been the nosy little sister that just had to walk in on him right as he was about to leave. She demanded, of course, to know where he was going.

"To find Malfoy," he had said truthfully, if only just for the shock value. Her chocolate brown eyes had grown comically wide, her mouth gaping. "Yes, _that_ Malfoy. I have to find him."

"B-but why?" Her bewildered question was not unexpected.

George shook his head and sighed. "Because the git's in love with Hermione and he has to know she's leaving."

"Oh," Ginny gasped. Then it was her turn to surprise George. "What the hell are we still doing here, then? Let's get a move on!"

George smiled fondly at the memory of his sister's unquestioning acceptance. She had stormed up to the drunken Malfoy as if she owned the place, cursing him for wallowing in self-pity when he could be going after Hermione like she hadn't learned just seconds before that he even had a reason to. Merlin, she was a force to be reckoned with.

His thoughts of Ginny opened the floodgates to the thoughts he had stored away from home. He found himself missing his family and feeling guilty all over again for having kept such poor contact with them. He felt like a terrible son.

Becs flopped down in the sand beside him not too long after. She bumped his shoulder with hers. "Hey, Red. What's with the look?"

"I don't know. I feel like a rubbish person. But at the same time I'm kind of happy about it," he said thoughtfully. Becs raised a questioning brow. George blushed sheepishly. As best he could, he explained, "I feel like I've been a terrible friend and son. But I'm happy about that because I've been so lost over living without F-Fred that I haven't felt much of anything in months. That's a good sign, right? I mean, sure, feeling like a bad friend sucks, but at least I'm feeling _something_."

Becs ruffled his hair affectionately. "Red," she laughed, "If you think that you're only just making progress, you're thicker than I thought." She elaborated when he looked to her, lost. "When I first met you, I could barely get you to crack a smile, George. Now you're always up for a good laugh, you light up the room when you walk in, your smile's infectious, hell, you even just said his name."

"Whoa, Becs, I had no idea you felt so strongly about me. Do tell me more! Is it my pasty English complexion you love most, or is it my one-eardness that's captivated you so?" George teased with a cheeky wink to cover his blush. The curly haired blonde giggled and shoved him over. "You see, that right there is exactly what I'm talking about. You've come so far, Red. I'm proud of you."

George didn't speak for a moment. Then, he reached for Becs' hand. She let him slip his fingers through hers, surprised but not upset. Serious George had returned, she noticed, his lips in not quite a frown but definitely not a smile. He gazed down at their entwined fingers, his dark brows knotted together thoughtfully.

"Hermione said something in her letter," George said slowly, his coffee brown eyes rising to meet hers. For once, she saw something that almost looked like hope in them. "She said she hoped I'd find something to take comfort in…"

"W-What are you saying?" she stuttered, her face suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot. How unusual. And why did it feel like there was something fluttering about in her stomach? She didn't-she couldn't-but what if she did? Becs had plenty of experience with guys, but she hadn't ever been as close to them as she was with George. She had never been the girly type, more content to be one of the guys than one of their love interests, and because of that, she was completely unprepared as she realized what those signs meant.

"I'm saying that I did," George admitted, a nervous smile on his lips, "I found you."

Becs didn't know what to say, just that his words made her feel all warm and fuzzy and a little ridiculous.

"Is-is that okay? I don't want to make things weird. Am I making things weird?"

"No," Becs answered a little breathlessly. When had George gotten close? If she leaned forward just a few inches, her lips would be on his. She had to admit it wouldn't be the first time she thought about kissing George. When he had started to become the person she knew he must've been before losing his brother, she couldn't help but be a little mesmerized.

George's eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips and back again. He could feel her breath mingling with his and he couldn't form a coherent thought. He knew he shouldn't even be considering it, but Merlin knew he was desperate for it.

He could just barely feel the ghost of her lips brush against his when she jerked away without warning. George's eyes flew open. He was already cursing himself, thinking that he had just ruined the best friendship he'd had since Harry. Becs was staring at him thoughtfully, her expression almost wary.

"Are you sure that's what you want to do, George?" she questioned seriously.

It was all he wanted to do. "Yes," he said seriously, though his voice may have shook a bit.

"I just don't want to be that girl you tell everyone you hooked up with while you lived abroad," Becs said honestly, voicing her concern. "That's all I've ever been."

George smiled fondly at her and her heart melted at the boyishness of it. "You'll never be that to me. Becs, friends or more, you'll always be the girl I'll tell everyone brought me back to life."

In their typical rough and tumble manner, Becs launched herself at the ginger, knocking him flat on his back. She stole the breath he had just recovered when she claimed his lips as enthusiastically as she surfed.

It could have been the lack of oxygen doing funny things to his head, but George felt a giddy sense of bliss.

* * *

"All this time and I never would have guessed," Helen said for the thousandth time since Cassie revealed her true heritage. In her shock, the woman had dropped a glass and didn't even react when it shattered against the floor. Cassie had given her the time to comprehend her admission while she cleaned the mess up. Once she had, Helen had tugged her into the tiny office in the back.

Cassie had told her everything but her true family name, which was more than she was willing to admit to Harry.

"You see, I think that my family might have been…active in the war. On the wrong side. What if Harry crossed paths with them? I know that I have nothing to do with my parents other than shared blood, but I still feel guilty. I don't even know if I have anything to feel guilty about, but I can't help it!" Cassie gushed out despairingly. She had heard the positions in the war that most pureblood families had taken. The fact that her father had meant to kill her to hide the fact that she was a Squib was proof enough that her family was not on Harry's side of the war. She tried not to think about the fact that her brother would have been included. "For all I know, Harry went to school with my brother and yet I can't even go back to England without risking my own life! And he says he's only here to figure things out, meaning he plans on going back sometime, soon probably. I couldn't ever be with him simply because I wouldn't be able to go with him."

Helen tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear in a motherly gesture. Her deep set eyes were full of warmth. "You really like this boy, don't you?"

Cassie buried her face in her hands and groaned, "I think I really do."

Helen rested a hand on the girl's shoulder, frowning at her defeated presence. "Cassie, I understand about your family, but this is also a little bit about Dylan, isn't it?"

The sound of his name made Cassie cringe. Helen dragged her out of her seat and drew her in for a bone crushing hug. "Sweetheart, that boy is so beneath you. He doesn't deserve a single thought of yours. Don't let him ruin your life when he's not even in it anymore. While I don't think being in a relationship with the Chosen One," she shook her head in wonder at that, "will be easy, I know Harry would never dream of hurting you. And maybe if he knew about your family, whoever they are, it might complicate things. But Cassie, if you don't take a chance, you'll never know, will you?"

"I love you, Auntie Helen," Cassie sniffed into her shoulder, eyes welling up with tears. Her biological family may never have wanted her, but she had miraculously been rescued by strangers who had loved her unconditionally. It was little moments like this that made Cassie feel like she had never belonged anywhere else.

"Don't be afraid to open up your heart again, Cassie," Helen said softly, "I think Harry would take good care of it."

* * *

Harry had witnessed an ungodly amount of scarring things in his life, and yet nothing had prepared him for what awaited him when he finally made it back to the flat. Really, he should have known to turn back as soon as he saw clothes scattered about the hall. Like the clueless idiot he was more often than he'd like to admit, Harry had continued on into the living room.

Passed out on the couch in a tangle of limbs was none other than a very shirtless George with his arm wrapped around the bare back of an equally shirtless Becs. Harry, praising every god he could think of that he hadn't seen any inappropriate bits of either of his friends, was miffed.

"The couch? Are you serious? That's where I eat my dinner!" Harry cried in disbelief. He startled the happy couple awake, Becs' face turning a brilliant shade of scarlet before she pulled the blanket up over her head in mortification. George had the decency to look sheepish, but he merely shrugged in a what-can-you-do manner.

"Right, then," Harry said flatly, "Guess I'm off to buy a new couch."

George, embarrassed but elated, pulled the blanket away from Becs' face to smile at her. They burst into laughter as Harry's voice echoed up the stairs.

"The couch! Just had to be my bloody couch!"

* * *

 _ **A/N: Well, I was going to wait to make George and Becs a couple for a while, if I even did at all, but they seemed to disagree haha. Hadn't expected this chapter to go the way it did but such is life. Poor Harry, he's still gotta work to get his girl! Also, there may or may not be some very slight cross over in the next chapter ;)**_


	16. Nerves of Jello

_**A/N: Hey, guys! So, I'm back in college and already loving it! I'm an Equine Science and Management major (which is fancy for 'plays with horses all day'). And this semester I'm working with draft horses (like the Budweiser Clydesdales, the BIG, BIG horses) and learning how to drive them and it's the best. thing. ever. Sorry, horses just make me superrrr happy haha, they're my life. For those of you in school, I hope you're loving it as much as I am =)**_

 _ **Anyway here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**_

 _Chapter Sixteen_  
 _Nerves of Jello_

Hermione no longer had to mentally prepare herself for disappointment before entering a new dental office. Her hopes were frayed, each false lead and dead end leaving them in tatters. Draco hated to see her so discouraged, but it was starting to get to him, too. They'd met with so many people, traveled to so many places, and yet there didn't seem to be a trace of her parents anywhere. It had been eight months of no progress.

Draco had taken to distracting Hermione from the stress of it all with silly little things. Excursions to exotic places, romantic dinners on the beach, plays and concerts. Hermione had taken to surprising him with things, too. Mostly Muggle things he had never heard of. There was one particular surprise that he had liked best, however. Just the thought of it brought a smile to his face.

* * *

One day out of the blue, after a few months of waiting, Hermione realized she was being ridiculous. She decided there was no reason to put it off any longer. Once her mind was made up, she approached it in her usual straightforward manner.

"I think I'm going to take a shower, Draco," Hermione said suddenly, rising to her feet. Draco pulled his attention away from his book to look up at her. Unable to resist, as usual, he shot her a saucy wink and cheekily asked, "Need some company in there?"

"Yes."

The book clattered to the floor, long forgotten. Hermione suddenly found herself quite literally swept off her feet as Draco carried her eagerly down the hall. He had jumped over the couch so quickly she couldn't even remember seeing it.

In the end, they never made it to the shower. The young couple had crashed into a bedroom and the rest of the world ceased to exist.

* * *

"Well, that was…" Draco trailed off, his breath coming out in pants. Hermione finished his sentence, "Awkward?"

The two turned to look at each other, and the second their eyes met they burst into an uncontrollable fit of childish giggles.

Draco, recovering from his laugher first, rolled slightly on top of Hermione and captured her smile in a kiss, reveling in the feel of skin against skin. He pulled away still slightly dazed, and they simply smiled dreamily at each other for what was probably a ridiculous amount of time.

"Did you ever think we'd end up here when you first called a truce?" Hermione wondered, gesturing at their current position. Draco ran his fingers down her side and settled his hand on her hip somewhat shyly. She hadn't expected him to be experienced, by any means, but she was pleasantly surprised that he had almost seemed more nervous than her. He was still acting a bit like it was a dream he was about to wake up from.

"You're just so bloody gorgeous, it's intimidating!" he had admitted when she told him his nervousness was unexpected but cute. The thought made her smile all over again. It had been clumsy and awkward and perfect.

"No," he answered truthfully, peppering her face with kisses. She closed her eyes and scrunched up her nose against his barrage of kisses, giggling the whole time. "I couldn't have ever dreamed up something this amazing."

She shoved him away with a laugh. "Merlin's beard, you're such a sap! The whole of Slytherin cringed simultaneously just now."

Draco rolled his eyes, but he couldn't rid himself of the happy grin on his face. "Don't remind me. I gave up being perfectly awful to be with you," he despaired dramatically. Hermione couldn't believe the ineffable love she felt for him. "You want me to kiss it better?"

He had responded with a very enthusiastic yes.

* * *

Even if their search wasn't going well, everything else was. Their relationship had only grown stronger, and neither could believe it was possible to love the other more with each passing day. Sure, like all couples, they had their fair share of arguments, but they were both too logical to stay mad at each other for long. Hermione had Draco wrapped completely around her finger, and he both knew and accepted it fully.

Merlin, help him, he'd even bought her a kitten. The dastardly ball of fluff adored Hermione almost much as he did, which was great. For her. For him, it meant competition. Yes, the great Draco Malfoy had to compete with a two pound gray tiger striped kitten for his witch's attention. He wanted to hate it, but he couldn't find it in him. Not when the tiny thing would curl up in the crook of his neck whenever he settled down for a good read. He would purr away, warmth radiating off him. The little cat was, admittedly, a nice addition to their cozy little flat. It was another thing that gave Hermione something to look forward to returning to after another bust.

But neither he nor little Roo, yes, as in kangaroo (he was still a little miffed she hadn't let him keep one) could fill that particular empty space in Hermione's heart. Only her parents could, and so they continued relentlessly on their seemingly insurmountable quest.

He slipped his hand into hers and led her into the last dental office they planned to visit that day. The sterile smell hit them full force when they stepped inside. To Hermione, the smell was a comfort. It was her childhood tucked away in her parents' private dental practice. Draco, however, had come to associate the scent with failure. After all, they had been to what seemed like hundreds of the same little offices and never gotten anywhere.

"Hello, do you have an appointment today?" a sugary sweet voice questioned. The young receptionist had eyes bluer than the brilliant Australian sky they had just left outside. Her dark hair hung down around her pixie like features in a soft wave of curls. Hermione felt a little intimidated as she took in the stunning girl. That was, at least, until she realized Draco still had eyes only for her. Okay, so they weren't technically on her as they were searching the waiting room for pictures of the staff. But knowing he was doing it for her meant just as much as if his eyes _had_ been on her instead of the gorgeous girl behind the counter.

"We don't actually," Hermione admitted. When the girl offered to schedule one for her, she explained herself. "I'm actually looking for some people. Friends of my parents. You see, they're dentists, too and they met a couple at a convention in England a couple years ago. My parents passed away and I wanted to come find the couple but I can't remember their names, I'm afraid. I was hoping you might have pictures of your doctors, maybe. I'd recognize them if I saw them."

The dark haired girl, Beth, as her name tag read, frowned a bit. She glanced around uncertainly before saying in a quiet voice. "We had a problem a few years back-an abusive ex someone was hiding from-that asked the same kind of thing, and it ended really badly. Because of that, I'm actually not supposed to unless you're a known client."

Hermione's shoulders sagged at her words. Seeing how distressed the poor girl seemed, Beth glanced around again and leaned forward, beckoning Hermione to do the same. "I'll tell you what. If you describe them to me, I'll look for you."

"Thank you!" Hermione gushed gratefully. "But I have something better. I've got a picture."

Beth gingerly picked up the photograph Hermione slid across the counter. It was faded, definitely old, and a little off colored. A ten year old Hermione beamed up at the photographer as her parents smiled down at her, the autumn leaves behind them a beautiful backdrop. It was the last year of her regular Muggle life. Just a year later, she was off at Hogwarts, totally immersed in the magical world of witchcraft and wizardry.

With an unreadable expression, Beth handed the photo back to Hermione. "So?" she urged, "Do they work here?"

"No, they don't," Beth answered with a shake of her head. Draco mentally cursed. He had been hopeful for a second there. Then, "But they did. David and Jennifer Anders worked her for over a year. They left in October to start their own practice."

Hermione looked to Draco in awe. He was relieved to see her fiery Gryffindor optimism come flooding back. She smiled like a child who had just received their most desired Christmas gift. "Draco, we have their names! Their names! They'll be so much easier to find!" she cried, a little overwhelmed. Neither of them had expected anything from this visit, so used to disappointment.

A voice interrupted her happy exclamations. Draco was grateful. It seemed to pause the joyful tears brimming in Hermione's eyes. "Actually, I can do you one better," Beth said with a secret smile. In a formal voice, she explained, "I like sending potential clients their way, you see. To help their business grow when we're overbooked. So, since I'm afraid we're full at the moment, I'll have to send you their way."

Hermione watched her scribble something down on a notepad and accepted it with a shaking hand. Realizing his girlfriend was too stunned to do much else but stare at the paper, Draco stepped in. "Thank you very much. It really means the world to her to find them," he said gratefully.

If it hadn't been for his watchful eye, Hermione would have crashed into the door. With a roll of his eyes, Draco pulled it open for her and followed her through. She hadn't taken her gaze off the paper Beth had handed her. Before she could walk out into the street, Draco tugged her into a standstill.

"It's-it's an address," she stammered in a breathy voice. Draco gently loosened the paper from her tight grip and took a look. "785 Skyview Lane in…hey, this is really close, Hermione. I just saw this town on a sign the other day. I think it's only 10 or so miles. Hermione?"

Draco tore his gaze from the address when he realized Hermione had grown silent. Silent tears were streaming down her face, but she made no move to wipe them away. "Draco," she said, her voice trembling as much as her hands. She didn't seem prepared to say any more. He grabbed her shaky hands to try and soothe her nerves. "What's wrong, love?"

"Wrong?" she echoed, a soft laugh falling from her lips. "It's right, Draco! Eight months and we've finally gotten somewhere! Nothing is wrong. We may have just found my parents!"

She attacked him with a fierce hug, wrapping her legs around his waist, unable to contain her excitement. Hermione decided to ignore his grumblings about girlfriends and koala bears and just clung to him. Without him, she knew she never would have come so far. And she told him as much. "You've been the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me, Draco," she sighed happily in his ear. As he let her slide to her feet, he laughed. "Must've had a pretty grim life if I'm the highlight."

She shut him up with an enthusiastic kiss. When they pulled apart, she couldn't help but laugh, feeling giddy. "Tomorrow morning we'll leave first thing?"

"Of course," he agreed immediately. Anything for her.

* * *

Hermione hardly slept a wink that night. Draco was dead to the world, peacefully slumbering away beside her. Thankfully, their nightmares had both subsided the past few months. They were few and far between and neither let them upset them too terribly anymore. Hermione knew that Draco still carried a tremendous amount of guilt for some of the things he had to do, but he was slowly coming to terms with it all.

She leaned forward and brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen in his face. His nose scrunched up in response, and he shifted in his sleep. He buried his face deeper into the pillow and curled his body closer to her. A smile rose to her face. Malfoy or not, the boy was undoubtedly a snuggler. She could fall asleep on the other side of the bed only to wake up with her koala of a boyfriend wrapped around her. Nothing made her happier.

A soft purring alerted her the presence of little Roo. She could just barely make out the dark shape of the small cat picking his way through the sheets. She scooped him up and deposited him beside her head. He licked the tip of her nose before curling into a ball on her chest.

With the comforting vibration of his purring and Draco's arm around her, Hermione finally fell into a deep, happy sleep.

Four hours later, Hermione woke to a rocking bed. Eyes blurry with sleep, she looked about sluggishly for the reason her world was so bouncy.

"Wake up! Wake up, Hermione! Today is the day, my dear!" Draco shouted cheerfully. She watched in amusement as the usually dignified blonde jumped up and down on the bed like a kid on Christmas. She rolled away from him, pulling a pillow over her head. It was a wonderful change of pace. Draco was usually the one who took ages to get out of bed. He was much more interested in lazy mornings in bed than Hermione, generally, though he had managed to convince her of their wonders on more than one occasion. "Shhh…" Hermione whispered, trying to lull herself back to sleep.

Draco continued to bounce about the bed. "But Hermione, you said first thing in the morning! Your parents!"

All at once, the memory of their successful trip yesterday came rushing back. She bolted upright, nearly sending Draco flying off the bed. He crouched down next to her with a cheeky grin. "I see that I've got your attention now."

Placing two hands on his chest, Hermione shoved him over. He shot her a playful glare before grinning widely. "You ready?"

"No," Hermione admitted shyly. She looked torn. Draco lay down beside her, his head propped up by his hand. "Why not? I thought this is what you wanted."

She flopped on her back and rolled to face him. "It is. But, what if I can't do it? I'm afraid to see them not remember me. Especially knowing that it's because I'm the reason they don't."

Draco brushed his lips against hers, and thrills ran down her spine as they remained against hers as he said, "You can do it, Hermione. You can do anything."

Without giving her time to doubt herself, he took advantage of her distracted state to pull her out of bed. Once she was on her feet, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" she laughed, blushing for reasons she couldn't explain. "I can walk, you know."

Draco shrugged as he set her down on a stool. "I figured you'd crawl back into bed if I didn't get you up."

"I would've worked up the nerve. Us Gryffindors have nerves of steel," Hermione said defensively, though she was thankful. Without him, she wasn't sure if she would have the strength to face what she had done.

Under his breath, Draco muttered, "More like nerves of jello." He gracefully dodged the wadded up napkin she threw at him, laughing as he set to work on breakfast. An hour later and they were ready to go. Draco was sat on the living room couch with Roo curled up in his lap as he read. Hermione had disappeared into their room to get dressed and had yet to reemerge.

When she finally did, she stole Roo from Draco and held him close, her nose buried in his silky fur. Her eyes were distant, her thoughts clearly somewhere far away. Draco rose and wrapped his arms around her from behind. She sank back against him. "You can do it, Hermione," he murmured reassuringly.

She nodded slowly and set Roo back down on the couch. He nudged her shaking hand with his head, purring away like a little motor. She kissed the top of his head and took Draco's hand. He liked what he saw when she met his gaze. Determination was overpowering the anxiety. "Ready?" he asked again.

She claimed his lips with hers as they disapparated.

* * *

George was feeling like a school boy with his first girlfriend as he walked down the street hand in hand with Becs. She was going on about some wave she had caught the other day, and he couldn't help but press a quick kiss to her cheek. She stopped her story and asked, "What was that for?"

"You're just so cute," he said for lack of a better description of the happiness he felt around her. Though her cheeks were already red from the sun, he noticed them grow a shade darker at his statement. He grinned ear to ear.

They carried on quite leisurely, locked hands swinging between them. George frowned when Becs came to an abrupt halt beside him. "Red," she said slowly, "Isn't that the couple from the photo you showed me?"

George followed her gaze across the street and sure enough, there was Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. George's heart fell to his stomach. Hermione was perched on his back, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck, his arms looped under her legs. She was laughing about something and leaned forward to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek. He pretended to be grumpy about it, but he couldn't hide his smile.

"Merlin's beard," George breathed in absolute shock, "It is." He ran a hand through his hair, leaving his ginger locks in complete disarray. Becs tried not to swoon, hating how girlish she felt around him. She couldn't believe she'd caught such a lovable, charismatic guy.

George, though his thoughts lately had mirrored her own, was momentarily distracted. In a country so huge, George had never thought he would cross paths with Draco and Hermione. He and Becs watched the couple make their way down the street, blissfully ignorant and equally oblivious to the now panicking ginger just across the way.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Aha! Finally some crossover! Poor George, he always knows things before everyone else haha. Everyone will have met everyone in the next two chapters for sure. How do you think Harry's going to react? I've got the next chapter nearly done and I'm hoping my schedule won't be too busy to get working on new ones. It doesn't look like it will, but no promises. Anyway, I hoped you liked this, please let me know if you do! It means sososo much!**_


	17. Ignorance Was Bliss

_Chapter Seventeen_  
 _Ignorance Was Bliss_

Still completely oblivious to the fact that they had stumbled across the quaint beach town that Harry and George had settled in, Hermione and Draco stood outside Beachside Dentistry. Draco was giving her a pep talk, convincing her that she was more than capable of facing her parents. Meanwhile, across town, Becs watched grimly as George paced about her flat frantically.

"What am I going to do?" George groaned again. "If I tell Harry, things will go badly. If I don't tell Harry and he runs into them, things will also go badly."

Becs, hating to see the easy going boy so stressed, approached him slowly. He searched her face for answers as she placed her hands on his shoulders. She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze, but she didn't mind. She loved how tall he was. "Listen, Red, it sounds like it's going to go terribly no matter what you do. So, maybe don't do anything."

"Not do anything?" the ginger echoed incredulously.

The blonde shrugged her bare shoulders. "Sure. It sounds like they need to work this out on their own. I don't know this friend of yours hardly at all, but I don't think she sounds like the type to put you in the middle of something like this."

"Well, she kind of did exactly that when she sent me a letter saying where she was and I didn't tell Harry," he argued sadly.

"Okay, so maybe you're right. But Georgie, don't you think Harry would forgive you?"

George shrugged helplessly and her hands fell to her side. Becs hated feeling so useless. "I don't want you to feel like you've deceived anyone, Red. But maybe it would be better to pretend you hadn't seen them. Then there's a chance they won't even cross paths. Nobody gets hurt. And if they do, just act surprised when you see them."

"And _that_ wouldn't make me feel like I was deceiving anyone?" George snorted in frustration. She didn't take his irritable response to heart, knowing that he was only mad at the situation, not her. Becs beckoned for him to lean down. Frowning, he followed her request. When he reached her height, she captured his lips with her own. A delighted thrill ran down her spine as she felt his lips curl into a smile against hers. They pulled away moments later, breathless, grinning madly.

"So what are you going to do about Harry and Hermione? Ignore it? Tell him?" she questioned slowly, trying to recover her breath. The heated look in George's coffee brown eyes nearly made her heart race right out of her chest. "Tell who what?" he murmured before his mouth crashed back into hers, his worries miles from his mind.

* * *

"I think this is something I need to do on my own, Draco," Hermione said quietly, not wanting to offend him. She was trying to hide her trembling hands from him but knew he'd already seen them. To her surprise, he agreed with her. But only after a quick evaluation from his watchful eye. Draco had been genuinely concerned she might bolt the minute he turned his back on her. She must have passed his inspection because he leaned forward and pressed a good luck kiss to her cheek.

"I'll send you a message through our galleons so you'll know where to find me. I'm going to check out the town," Draco said, "You'll be wonderful."

Hermione smiled weakly at him before turning to face the white washed building. She steeled herself for the meeting. Eight months had led to that moment. Not to mention the year before them that she hadn't even been able to bear the thought of what she had done to her parents. The young witch had done what she felt was necessary, their safety her first priority. But she had done it without their consent, and explaining that she had essentially stolen two years of their lives was not going to be a walk in the park.

 _You are Hermione Granger,_ she scolded herself. _You've face so many more life threatening, fear inducing situations. Get a move on already._

With one last reassuring smile from Draco, Hermione disappeared into the small building. The blonde Slytherin set out to look for something to keep him occupied for the time being. He was worried about Hermione. He didn't quite know what to expect from her little meeting, but he understood her desire to do it alone. She had been the cause of it, and she would be the end of it. There was no doubt she could hold her own, but he couldn't get her out of his head. Though, that wasn't exactly unusual.

He wandered through the streets quite aimlessly, perusing the shops that caught his fancy. His eyes squinted against the harsh sun, Draco ducked into a little corner shop for some reprieve. To his relief, it was a café, and it was completely deserted. In desperate need of a drink, he settled down at the counter. He ran his fingers through his hair and drummed his fingers softly against the counter. Hermione loved the nervous little trait, though he hadn't even noticed it until she had pointed it out one day.

"What can I get you, son?" a voice asked, interrupting his musings. Draco looked to the woman smiling kindly at him. He loved Australia. Not a soul there knew that he was the last person that deserved a welcoming smile. "Just a water for now, please," he answered politely. He felt the galleon in his pocket burn and added, "My girlfriend will be along any minute, and I know she'll want lunch."

"Ah, another English boy! We've gotten quite a few of you these past few months," she exclaimed brightly.

"Nice ones, I hope. Wouldn't want anyone disgracing our good name," Draco joked with a smile. The stout woman shook her head. "Oh no, they're lovely boys. Just lovely. Oh, would that be your lady now?"

Draco turned on his stool to see Hermione blow through the door, her curls a wild mane of chocolate brown, her eyes bright with excitement. She stopped just inside the door, huffing and puffing as if she'd been running. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her frazzled state. Draco was vaguely aware of the woman behind him watching their exchange, but when Hermione came running at him, he forgot all about her.

He caught Hermione in a hug, his ribs protesting loudly against her death grip. "We found them, we found them, we found them!" she cried repeatedly, clinging to him like she'd float away if she let go. He twirled her around, her giggles cutting through the air. "I told you we would, love. I never would have let you give up," Draco said softly. Hermione pulled away with an excited squeal. "I know, I know. Sorry, I'm just so happy!"

"As you should be," Draco assured her fondly, her joy radiating off her in near tangible waves. It was infectious. "How about we celebrate it over lunch?"

"Okay," Hermione agreed, still a little dazed. Draco set her down on a stool and scanned through the menu. Knowing that she was off in her own happy little world, he took the liberty of ordering for her.

He smiled when he felt a hand grab his. Hermione was practically glowing. "I can't believe we found them, Draco. I mean, it was a little awkward, at first, knowing them but them not knowing me," her eyes grew a little sad before brightening up again. "But it was still them!"

"What did you talk about? You didn't tell them, did you?" Draco wondered curiously. He knew she hadn't had a plan when she'd walked in. She shook her head and gulped down half her water. "Merlin, no. But I told them that I was thinking of going to dental school and wondered if I could talk to them about it. They invited me to dinner sometime."

They ate their lunch quite happily, though it took ages as Hermione would gush about every little detail about her parents between each bite. He wasn't quite prepared for one of her questions, and it made him feel a little helpless. Hermione's smile had faded into a concerned frown. "Do you think they'll come back to England when it's all over? I mean, they seem so happy here. What if I only ruin things for them?"

He leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek and said, "Love, if I had someone like you in my life, and thank every god there is that I do, nothing would be more important than remembering you."

Hermione blushed a brilliant crimson and the woman that was refilling their waters grinned at him. She set Hermione's water down in front of her and said, "It's so nice to see such a sweet young couple. This one sounds like a keeper, dear."

Draco's cheeks flushed and he avoided the sappy gazes of the two women. Hermione loved seeing him uncharacteristically shy. "He's a definite keeper," Hermione agreed softly. When their waitress disappeared into the kitchen, Draco teased her. "So, I'm a keeper, huh?" She shoved him away playfully. "Don't let it go to your head. It just barely fits through the door as it is."

"Ha-ha, you're hilarious," he said sarcastically, rising to his feet. "I'll be right back, love. I saw a tourist stand just outside. One of the brochures said something about kangaroos."

Hermione laughed out loud at him. He faked a scowl before giving her a quick kiss and dashing out the door. The git was so obsessed with the animal. So obsessed, in fact, that he named her cat after it. Waiting for him to come back, Hermione picked at the rest of her meal. She froze mid-chew at the sound of the last voice she ever expected to hear.

* * *

Harry grabbed his keys as he rushed out the door. He was meeting Cassie for lunch down by the beach and he was already running late. He barreled down the stairs calling for the witch exiting the kitchen. "Helen, I'm running late for Cassie, have you got our lunches? I was wondering if-"

The woman in question frowned at Harry when he cut himself off. She didn't understand what had stopped the boy in his tracks. He was absolutely frozen, his emerald eyes wider than the moon, looking as if they had seen a ghost. Helen followed his gaze to the sweet young girl at the counter as she heard Harry gasp, "Hermione?"

The brunette appeared as flabbergasted as Harry, jumping up from her seat. " _Harry_?" she questioned in a tone of utter disbelief.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted in delight. Before either woman could react, Harry darted across the room and grabbed her in a hug so enthusiastically that he took her off her feet. "Merlin, 'Mione, it's so good to see you! Where have you been?"

He set a bewildered Hermione down on her feet to look her over. Her skin had a healthy tan glow, her eyes were bright, not the broken dull brown he had last seen them. She had gained back the weight that had fell off her during their year on the run, no longer the walking skeleton she had been. She looked better than he ever could have hoped. He had been so worried as she seemed so shattered at the final battle.

"I-I came looking for my parents," she stuttered finally. "I'm sorry, Harry. It's just-you were the last person I expected to run into. What are _you_ doing _here_?"

With a teasing smile, Harry said, "Well, if _someone_ hadn't run away, they would've known that George and I packed it up and moved to Australia at the end of October."

Hermione blushed, guilt crashing down on her. "I'm so sorry for leaving the way I did, Harry. But so much happened, more than you know, and I couldn't handle it. I've felt so guilty, so selfish every day for it, but I don't think I would have been able to move on if I'd stayed. I had every intention of going home to England once I found my parents, I swear. I just needed some time away."

"I understand," Harry said automatically, "Though I missed you like crazy."

"Actually, Harry," she started, "I don't think you do. There's something you should know..."

Harry missed her glancing frantically over her shoulder as he took in the two plates in front of her. His brows knit together in confusion. "Hermione, are you-is there someone here with you?"

Just as he asked her, the front door jingled as a newcomer entered. "Turned out to be nothing. Do you think we should go check on Roo?"

If Draco hadn't still had his eyes glued to the paper in his hands, he wouldn't have been surprised when he looked up to find the bloody Boy-Who-Lived pointing a wand in his face. " _Potter_?" he sputtered in astonishment.

"Hermione, get behind me, I'll deal with this bastard," Harry growled, stepping in front of his best friend. Three heads whipped around to face the kitchen doors as Helen burst through them, wand at the ready. "I've got your back, Harry!"

A new voice was added to the mix. "What in Merlin's name is going on down here?"

"George!" Hermione and Draco exclaimed simultaneously with matching grins.

"I found us a bloody Death Eater, that's what, George!" Harry cried angrily, his wand still aimed at Draco. The blonde had his hands up in the air to show he wasn't a threat. The disinterested look on his face only incited Harry's anger. And apparently his rage only proved to unleash Hermione's.

She stepped out from behind him and stood in front of his raised wand. "Harry James Potter, you put that wand away right this instant!"

"Mione, move! I've got him," Harry insisted. George sidled over to the counter where Helen was tucking away her wand. "This is going to end disastrously, Helen," he groaned tragically.

"Harry, he is _not_ a Death Eater!" Hermione shouted, hands on her hips in her usual lecture giving stance.

Harry's wand wavered, confusion setting in. "Why are you defending him?"

Hermione looked back over her shoulder to the blonde. His face gave nothing away. She heaved a sigh and turned to Harry. "Because there _is_ someone here with me."

Harry connected the dots in record timing. "No," he said suddenly, his voice loud and full of confusion, "You're not-you can't be telling me that you're with _Draco bloody Malfoy_. He's a Death Eater, for Merlin's sake! He's not even trying to hide his Dark Mark!"

Draco's cheeks burned with the truth of his words. The ugly black brand stuck out against his pale skin, a constant reminder of what brought him and those around him so much pain.

"Only because I insist that he doesn't," Hermione said calmly, her anger ebbing away. "He's nothing to be ashamed of. He's not a Death Eater, Harry."

He couldn't believe her. Harry was too overwhelmed to feel much of anything but utter disbelief. Despite that, he could still feel the sharp claws of betrayal sinking in, a dark mood falling over him. "You left us without a clue where you were going, whether you were okay or not, for nearly a year so you could run off with this git? Who _are_ you?"

Hermione's kind features turned to steel. "I am Hermione, thank you very much. The same girl you've been friends with for years. I'll have you know that I didn't run off to be with him. I ran off because I thought that he _died_ , Harry. I was beside myself. Everything hit me at once, and I couldn't handle it. And yes, I know that makes me selfish. I know I wasn't the only one who had a rough time of it during the war, but that's the truth. I was hiding out with my cousins when Draco came and found me and promised to help me find my parents. We've been looking for eight months."

"If you're shacking up with Voldemort's little pawn, then you're no friend of mine," Harry said darkly. He shoved past the stricken Hermione and shot Draco a deathly glare before exiting the café in a huff.

Draco caught Hermione as she fell against his chest in a mess of tears. George met his eye over her head, his face apologetic but unsurprised. Helen, who he understood to be a witch, held a hand over her heart, sympathy for Hermione and concern for Harry written all over her tanned face.

Helen was torn. She knew the story behind Death Eaters, and yet she couldn't apply it to the polite young man that was clearly head over heels for the pretty curly haired girl. Despite his negative reaction, Helen had seen how completely in love the couple was before Harry had come down, and she realized there was a much greater story there than he might have realized.

George came to her side and patted her back. "It's okay, Mione. We'll get him to understand."

"I mean, I know you said you'd tell everyone as soon as we found your parents, but I didn't think you meant _that_ soon," Draco teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Hermione let out a strangled sob and hugged him tighter.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, Harry knows now...finally. I was actually kind of nervous about this chapter. I never would have dreamed that so many people would read this, so I didn't really worry about what anyone would think of it at the beginning. Anyway, I hope you liked it, I know you've been patiently waiting for this reunion. Let me know what you think, please!**_


	18. Not Quite Dead

**_A/N: I'm back! Finally! I feel so guilty for keeping you guys waiting so long! I got assigned the first round of barn duty which means two weeks of early mornings and late nights, so I haven't had much free time. And of course, when I got some time, I got really sick so it was hard to concentrate enough to write. I can't promise a lot of speed for the next chapter, but it shouldn't take as long as this one did. Again, sorry about the wait!_**

 _Chapter Eighteen_  
 _Not Quite Dead_

"He's right, you know," Draco blurted suddenly. Hermione's tear stained face looked to him in disbelief. He couldn't meet her gaze, instead staring absently at the crack in the tile on the floor. His voice sounded so depressed that Hermione looked around in search of Dementors. "I _was_ a Death Eater."

Hermione sighed and crossed the small kitchen to settle herself on his lap. She cradled his face in her hands and made him look at her. His gray eyes were broken, regret and pain flooding them with despair. She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before disagreeing. "No, you weren't. Not in the way that he thinks you were."

"What does it matter, Hermione?" he questioned hopelessly. "We both know he can't know the truth. I made an Unbreakable Vow. Much as his opinion means to you, it doesn't mean enough to me to die for it."

"I know," she said miserably, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "He had to make this nearly impossible didn't he?"

He snaked his arms around her waist, chuckling to himself, his laugh sounding hollow to her ears. "Of course he did. The man's absolutely mental."

Hermione tried to perk up. "I mean, maybe I could try to convince Harry?"

"He's not going to believe anything you say, love. He feels like he's been betrayed by his best friend to his worst enemy. Potter's not going to be kind," Draco said as gently as he could.

"I wanted to tell him, you know," Hermione sighed, burying her face in her hands. "I wanted to tell him so many times in school, while we were on the run, since we've been here. But every time I think of how that conversation would go, it ends in disaster. How was I _ever_ going to tell him?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders, wishing he had the answer. "If it were me, I'm afraid I'd be acting just as poorly."

"I know. How do I explain to him that all these years haven't been hatred but friendship? I mean, that's basically telling him a part of his life was a lie. And it was. But I didn't do it to hurt him. We were just trying to get through the war alive and on the winning side."

"Hello? Mione? Ferretface?" a singsong voice called out. Hermione giggled at the name that brought a nasty scowl to Draco's face. George bounded into the room with a grin. Draco crossed his arms and stared down the ginger disapprovingly. "Weasley, I do believe I invited you here as a friend, so no ferret business."

George merely waved Draco's request away with a flick of his hand. Hermione had perked up a bit. She hadn't realized that he had invited George to their flat. The surprise visitor was more than welcome.

"So, I kind of was maybe eavesdropping for a while before I announced myself," George began without an ounce of shame. Hermione scolded him but she couldn't hide her amused smile. "What? I didn't want to walk in on anything… _indecent_."

Draco didn't like the devilish grin on the Weasley's face. Such a smile had always made him nervous at Hogwarts, and even though there was no longer a matching one beside it, he was still wary.

Hermione ignored his theatrics and drew him in for a long hug. "Oh, I've missed you, George."

Sobering up, George gave Hermione one last squeeze before releasing her. "I've missed you, too, Mione."

A sad silence fell between the three, realization of all that had happened to them in the past year settling down around them. To everyone's surprise, Draco was the one who broke it. He placed a hand on George's shoulder and said sincerely, "Thank you, George, for helping me find Hermione. You will never know how much it meant to me. I only wish we could have helped you, too."

The prankster smiled happily at Draco and Hermione's hearts melted at the sight. It thrilled her to see the ginger looking so at ease, so content. There was still a lingering sadness around him that one could sense if they knew to look for it, and she knew that wasn't likely to ever go away. But as she took him in, she could tell that he would be okay.

"But you did," George said quite simply. When Hermione and Draco looked to him curiously, he elaborated. "You showed me that if something as crazy as this," he said, gesturing between the two of them, "could happen, then why couldn't it be possible for me to live on? It gave me a little hope to cling to. Then Harry and I moved here and I met Rebekah."

Hermione cooed excitedly. "You've met someone?"

George actually blushed, something she had never seen before. "Yeah. Becs is brilliant. We've been friends since I arrived, but it's…more now. Don't know what I would've done without her, honestly."

"Good for you, mate," Draco said sincerely.

George suddenly yelped and jumped a near foot in the air. Neither Draco nor Hermione knew why until the ginger hopped around, shaking his leg frantically. A tiny gray ball of fur had latched itself onto the jeans of the prankster.

"Oh, do calm down, George. It's only Roo," Hermione giggled as she went to rescue the boy from her kitten. She scooped the gray cat into her arms and he purred away contently, nuzzling his face against her neck. George eyed it over curiously before shrugging. "Well, it's a fair bit cuter than that hideous orange beast you used to have."

Draco let out an amused laugh as Hermione fumed. "Crookshanks was a wonderful cat, thank you very much!"

"Sure, sure. He had the face of an angel," George teased lightly, scratching Roo behind his ear. Knowing what they wanted to hear, he got right to point. "I talked to Harry. He says he'll meet with the both of you. He wants to hear you out, but he's still raging mad. It wasn't easy getting him to agree."

Hermione was trying not to get her hopes up about his decision to meet with them. His words, while entirely expected, had hurt. She wanted nothing more than to be able to explain to her best friend why she had done what she did. Draco, on the other hand, was grateful for George's efforts but decidedly hopeless. He knew there would be no chance for forgiveness when it came to the Boy-Who-Lived. There was so much unsaid and unsayable that he knew he hadn't a chance.

"Yeah, he threw quite a fit once I tracked him down," George admitted as he thought back on it.

* * *

"Harry? Harry, I saw you come up here. Harry?" George huffed and puffed as he dragged himself up onto the boulder. Harry loved to climb up on the rocky ledge that overlooked the beach, so when he wasn't in any of his usual places, George made the long hike up.

Harry was perched on the edge of the short cliff, his shoulders slumped forward, his head hung. When George's arrival kicked loose a few scattering rocks, Harry's head whipped up. "What are you doing here?"

George dusted off his shirt and strolled over to Harry. The boy shrank under his disapproving gaze. "I think you know why I'm here," George said, "Hermione has been your best friend-"

"No!" Harry shouted, startling George. He jumped to his feet, his hands clenched into white knuckled fists. "She's not my friend! Not if she's with Malfoy! I mean, how could she? He's the enemy!"

"Please, Harry, you're starting to sound like Ron. Enough of that. He is _not_ your enemy," George scolded him. Harry was not amused by his light tone. "He was a Death Eater, George. And Hermione left us all without hardly a word so she could run off and be with him!"

"And don't you wonder why she did it?" George cut in quite simply. Harry quieted down, though his anger was still strong. His friend's words had hit him, though. He was furious that Hermione, one of his dearest friends, had gone off with Malfoy. But he could see George's point. He hadn't stopped to think about _why_ she had. "We both know Hermione doesn't do things without reason. So, aren't you wondering what reason she has to be with Malfoy? To go off without you and Ron? Because you have to admit that there is a story behind it all that you don't know. And don't you think she deserves to be able to tell you what it is? At least let her explain why before you destroy such a beautiful friendship."

"The only one destroying this friendship is her," Harry said coldly. George had had enough. "Fine, Harry, be like that. But if you can't see why Hermione might have gone off with him, why not think about why _he's_ with her? He's a Pureblood, a Death Eater by your own words. So why is _he_ with Hermione, the poster child for Muggleborns, the war heroine? Don't you wonder the reason that Malfoy is with Hermione? Aren't you curious how it all happened?"

"I don't care _how_ it happened," Harry raged, "I just care that it _did_."

George frowned. "That's not good enough. I know that Hermione messed up, but she deserves a chance. She's kept you alive for years. Don't you think that means enough for you to hear her out? Maybe their story will make sense to you."

Harry eyed George thoughtfully for a moment, wondering when the prankster had become so rational, and let his words sink in. "You know more about this than you're letting on, don't you?" he wondered slowly. Sighing, the ginger simply nodded once. "Why do you know about this and not me? Why didn't she tell _me_?"

All at once, the anger flowed out of Harry. He was still upset, that went without saying, but he realized it wasn't as simple as he might've wished. It was easy to be mad, but it was considerably harder to swallow his wounded pride and admit that he may have jumped to conclusions a bit too quickly. No matter their story, he still had been betrayed by one of his best friends and that was hard for Harry to process. On the other hand, he had missed Hermione dearly, and wanted to know that she was at least okay, even if she was with the ferret.

"Maybe because she knew you would react terribly," George piped up, breaking off his thoughts. "I mean, it was expected, but I think that's what she was afraid off in the first place. Maybe she thought it was easier to avoid it all. Keep everyone happy."

"Happy? She thought disappearing after all she'd been through would make us _happy_?" Harry echoed incredulously. His glasses were askew and his hair a wild mess, but his expression was decidedly serious. "She was tortured and acted like nothing happened after our time on the run! How was her disappearing after all that not supposed to drive me mental with concern?"

His bad mood was returning rapidly and George recognized it. Before things went too dark again, he threw an arm around Harry's shoulder. "You're mad, I get it. But don't you think these are questions that you might be better off asking Hermione? I mean, I haven't got the answers you're looking for, but she does. Malfoy, too."

Harry's scowl deepened at the mention of his childhood nemesis, but he had to admit that George had a point. "You really think I should talk to her?"

George cuffed the back of the boy's head. "Of course, you should, you git. Angry or not, she's still been your friend for the better part of eight years. You don't throw that away for a petty feud. She understands that you're upset, but that doesn't mean what you said didn't hurt her. But she's strong. Strong enough to forgive you for it. Are you strong enough to forgive her?" Harry couldn't meet his pointed look.

Sighing heavily, wondering at quickly things had been ruined today, Harry offered, "I'll hear her out, but I can't promise I'll forgive her."

"Good enough for me," George chirped before disapparating without another word.

* * *

Cassie hemmed and hawed around her parents' shop for an hour or two before they kicked her out. They complained her distracted pacing was stressing the customers out. Sheepish and restless, the blonde exited the store and set off down the street. Her distressed behavior could only have one cause.

Harry Potter.

They had made plans to have a picnic on the beach the day before. Harry was always on time for everything they did, if not a few minutes early. So, when he hadn't shown up at all, Cassie was worried. And more than a little peeved. Still, she assumed he had a good reason. She had been warring against herself about whether or not she should seek him out.

After another hour of aimless and frustrated wandering, Cassie gathered her thoughts and decided to find the boy. Since she hadn't seen him on the beach in her travels, she headed to the Quarry Café first.

Butterflies had burst from their cocoons in her stomach and fluttered about frantically. Cassie hadn't the slightest clue why. Of course, seeing Harry always made her feel warm and fuzzy inside, like some missing puzzle piece had finally returned to its puzzle. But these butterflies were different. They were rather anxious but not completely unpleasant. She shrugged them off and pushed open the door to Helen's café.

Her eyes fell on Harry's dark mop of hair the minute she stepped inside. To her dismay, however, she also caught sight of a pretty brunette sitting across from him. She skidded to a startled halt. Flashbacks of her relationship with Dylan came rushing back. She hadn't thought that Harry was like that. Her heart started crying long before the message made it to her brain.

"Cassie!" Harry exclaimed when he caught a glimpse of blonde hair out of the corner of his eye. His boyish grin made her heart sob. His brow furrowed in confusion when he saw her wounded expression. Understanding dawned on him when he realized she was glancing between himself and Hermione. Knowing her former boyfriend cheated on her, he rushed to explain.

"Harry, you said you were okay with waiting," Cassie said dejectedly. She wanted to be with him, and she was working up the nerve to tell him she was ready. But now…

"Oh, no, no! It's not like that," Harry insisted, jumping to his feet. The brunette he was sitting with stood up as well, her honey brown eyes full of concern. Cassie glared daggers at Harry until he explained himself.

"Er, sorry, Cass." Harry had the good grace to blush. "This is one of my best friends, Hermione Granger. The one I told you about."

Cassie's gray eyes grew wide in understanding. "Oh. Oh!"

Before she could redeem her childish behavior to Harry's pretty, long lost friend, a tall blonde sidled over to Hermione's side, apologizing quietly, "Sorry, I'm late. Roo got outside and was hell to catch." She still had her focus on Harry, apologizing wordlessly with a small smile, but the boy's arrival distracted her.

Harry's lips curled downwards in a distasteful scowl that didn't suit his kind nature at all. With a grudging voice, he introduced the blonde who slipped his hand into Hermione's. "And this is her ferret."

She giggled when Hermione punched Harry in the arm. Pouting, Harry sighed and tried again. "Ugh, sorry. This is her _boyfriend_ , Draco Malfoy."

All eyes turned to Cassie as the glass in her hand shattered on the floor.

"Merlin, you look like you've seen a ghost!" Harry exclaimed.

"D-drake?" Cassie gasped. The boy before her watched her apprehensively, no doubt wondering who the crazy girl before him was. She looked up to him with eyes the size of the moon, the silver in them swirling with disbelief and cautious hope. She couldn't believe it. He was so tall. He held himself regally, brilliant blonde hair and steel grey eyes to match her own. She couldn't help the tears that sprang to her eyes. He was so grown up.

"Oh my God," she breathed, her throat constricting, her world spinning. Harry, eyes full of worry, caught her before she could fall. She waved him off, assuring him she was fine.

"I do hope you're okay…?" Hermione offered, searching for her name.

With her eyes locked firmly on Draco, she answered, "Cassie. Short for Cassiopeia, like the constellation."

Draco's interest had only been in Hermione and seeing how many times he could sneak kisses to her face before Harry combusted, but at the sound of such an unusual name, he started. Hermione frowned at her boyfriend's sudden tenseness. His eyes, now a stormy charcoal grey bore into Cassie's.

"It can't be," he muttered to himself even as he closed the space between them. Her heart was pounding so hard she felt everyone in the goddamned country could hear it. Harry and Hermione shared a perplexed look as Draco came to a halt just before the slim blonde.

The two stared at each other in a tense silence. Then, hesitantly, Draco lifted a shaking hand to her face. Knowing what he was looking for, she turned her face slightly to the left. His trembling thumb traced over the scar on the corner of her jaw. "I-I don't understand," he choked, voice raw with emotion.

"Um, neither do we," Harry threw in with a nervous chuckle. Hermione shared his sentiments, though being so in tune with Draco, she had her suspicions.

Harry's words fell on deaf ears.

"I think the simple version," Cassie murmured around the heavy lump in her throat, "would be that I'm not quite dead as you thought."

Draco's usually cold eyes flooded with warmth. And tears. With a strangled cry, he threw his arms around her and dragged her to him. With equal fervor, she knotted her arms around him with a promise of never letting go. They were a tangled, sobbing mess, but they were together.

Draco and Cassiopeia Malfoy were reunited.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Yeah, yeah. All of you who guessed she was a Malfoy were spot on. This originally started out as an idea for a one-shot but I'm glad I've been able to turn it into this instead. I'm not 100% of a fan of this chapter, but I'm sick and dead tired, so it'll do for now. I might fine tune it when I go back through all the other chapters. Can I just say how much I love all of you, by the way? In just this month alone, this story has gotten over 10,000 views. You're incredible!  
Please leave a review if you liked this! :)**_


	19. Shattered Memories

_Chapter Nineteen_  
 _Shattered Memories_

The three short weeks in which Hermione had believed Draco to be dead had been torturous to her in a way that not even Bellatrix could have matched. An irreplaceable part of her heart had been ruthlessly ripped from her chest with the cruel promise of never returning. She had always been so strong, so steadfast to reassure those around her, but losing Draco drained every bit of courage and hope she had managed to carry through the war. Even then, she didn't understand how she had made it through three weeks believing he was dead. It seemed impossible to her now.

As it was, she could never begin to understand how Draco must have been feeling. His tragic loss had dragged on for nearly ten years.

As her Slytherin lover sobbed with his thought to be dead sister, Hermione couldn't help but think about her own reunion with him. "You're alive," he cried for the thousandth time, still disbelieving. Cassie clung to her brother, crying with equal fervor. "Drake, I've missed you so much."

Yes. Hermione knew all about Cassiopeia Malfoy. On one of her runs to drop off knitted hats to the kitchens for elves, Hermione caught Draco begging an angry elf for a cupcake. They had become friends the year before and remained in touch over the summer. It was their second month back in school and they hadn't seen much of each other outside of class. She remembered that night fondly, though the story he told her was heart breaking. His admission had truly cemented what had still been a somewhat tentative friendship.

* * *

" _Got a bit of a sweet tooth there, Malfoy? Isn't it a bit late for dessert?" Hermione teased gently. Draco, not having been aware of her presence, whirled around in surprise. When he caught sight of her, a fierce scowl was present on his face. His gray eyes flashed charcoal as he snapped, "This is not your business, Granger."_

 _Taken aback by his rudeness, something that had been lacking since their truce, Hermione frowned deeply. In a huff, she responded, "Fine, maybe it's not. But that doesn't give you the right to harass the elves when they won't give you what you want."_

 _Draco clenched his fists and glared at her. "You don't understand. I don't want a cupcake, I need a cupcake. And I need it before midnight."_

 _Hermione rolled her eyes at his dramatic tone. "Never heard anyone so desperate for a cupcake before." She watched in wonder as he deflated, all his anger suddenly gone as he slumped onto one of the elves' stools. His elbows on the table, he hid his face in his hands. She thought about calling him out as a drama queen, but something about him seemed too broken. Not experienced enough with a Draco that acted human rather than godly, Hermione wasn't quite sure how to go about cheering him up._

 _"Mipsy," Hermione called softly to the elf nearest to her. The tiny elf's ears perked up at her name and she happily ran to the young witch. "Would you mind terribly bringing me a cupcake?"_

 _"Mipsy be right back!"_

 _Hermione pulled Draco's hands from his face and pushed the cupcake towards him wordlessly. He stared at it with complete captivation, as if it were the finest gift he'd ever received. His intensity in his gaze when he finally looked to her was unnerving. "You got me a cupcake?" he asked slowly._

 _"Well, I certainly didn't get you a carrot," she retorted, confused by the unusual behavior from the boy._

 _He shot her a flat look but still managed to thank her. "It's just-it really means a lot, Granger."_

 _"You're strange, Malfoy," Hermione responded with a laugh, "It's only a cupcake."_

 _"But it's not," he insisted. There was a faraway look in his eyes that she suddenly felt the urge to pull him back from. "It's not for me…it's for her."_

 _"Her?"_

 _"Cassie," he clarified, his voice shaky, "My sister. It's her birthday."_

 _Hermione seemed to miraculously choke on the air. "S-sister? You have a sister?"_

 _But her question fell on deaf ears. Draco was still looking in on a world that had been lost to him years before. His voice sounded numb as he said bitterly, "Well, it would have been her birthday, anyway."_

 _"I-I had no idea that you had a sister," Hermione admitted somewhat helplessly. She was fairly certain that no one else knew that either._

 _"That was exactly his hope," Draco muttered darkly, his hands clenching into fists before relaxing his fingers. Hermione had a feeling she knew exactly who he was talking about. Obviously, Draco had been distancing himself from his father's belief, their friendship was a testament to that, but she had never heard him speak of him with such a disgusted hatred in his voice. "She was a Squib. She was six and a squib and he killed her for it."_

 _Immediately following his admission, Hermione witnessed Draco Malfoy fall apart for the first time. It would happen just a handful of times again, but the first was always the worst for the both of them._

 _When he had finally regained control of his emotions, his platinum blonde hair a ruffled mess, his pale cheeks stained with tears, his gray eyes carefully avoiding Hermione, Draco whispered, "Her name was Cassiopeia, like the constellation."_

 _"That's a beautiful name, Draco," Hermione said softly, reaching for his hand. He gripped it like a lifeline to the present, staring at the pink frosted cupcake with a sad smile. "It is. I always called her Cas, and she always called me Drake. I have a cupcake on her birthday every year. I've never missed one. That's why it was so important."_

 _They sat in a melancholic silence until Draco spoke again. He held nothing back as he told Hermione everything he remembered about his late sister up until the night his father had first turned his wand against his son and ended his daughter's life. By the time the two unlikely companions had sneaked back into their dormitories long after curfew, every house elf in Hogwarts was tittering with excitement at the beautiful friendship._

* * *

"Drake, the last time I saw you…" Cassie gasped through her tears. Wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, Draco frowned, the memory of the night he lost her not one he enjoyed reliving. "I'm fine, Cas. Who cares about what happened to me that night? What matters is that you're alive! How is that possible?"

"But he hurt you!" Cassie argued, more concerned about whether her father had done any lasting damage on the seven year old Draco that had tried to protect her. "I heard it. I heard you screaming. Some nights I still hear it."

It was at this point that Harry had finally begun to recover from the ultimate shock of discovering that his recent love interest was, in fact, the long lost sister of his childhood nemesis who was apparently now dating his best friend. George was never going to let him forget it. Cassie's concern for Draco had struck a familiar chord as he recalled one of their first conversations after learning Cassie's connection to the wizarding world.

What had she said?

 _"We managed to fool our parents for some time, almost a year. I'm not sure how he figured it out, my father, but when he did, it was terrible. He-he took his anger out on my brother, threatening to deal with me later. I still remember the spell he used, and Harry, I don't know hardly any spells…" Her voice trailed off, thick with emotion. Harry draped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. "My mother dragged me from the room after my father started the spell, but I could still hear him screaming. That was the last time I saw my brother."_

And he had known the exact spell. The Cruciatus Curse. The same curse used on Hermione in what might have even been the same room in her family's manor. In a flash of the awful memory of Hermione lying lifeless on the floor, she was suddenly replaced by a small young blonde. The thought made Harry's skin crawl. Perhaps Hermione's blood hadn't been the first spilt on that floor.

As he watched Draco reassure his sister of his recovery of that night, Harry saw before him two Malfoys. On one hand, he couldn't shake the image of his narcissistic, arrogant self out of his head, years of the git forever ingrained in his mind as foul, evil, wretched. But then, as just a child, he had faced the torturous wrath of his father for his Squib sister. And the tenderness with which he was holding that same sister, like she was an angel, completely contradicted the other. Harry didn't even want to think about the Draco that might be possible with Hermione involved.

He wasn't sure if the shock of finding Hermione and then learning she was with Draco had overwhelmed him so fantastically that not much could faze him, or that them being related wasn't so farfetched after all. But either way, he witnessed their reunion with somewhat of a 'why-the-hell-not' attitude. Harry was not, after all, someone who would begrudge someone their family, no matter who it was. He knew the gaping hole it left inside to lose someone you love. Any opportunity to fill it was not to be taken lightly.

But still, just his luck, right? He finds a girl he likes, and she turns out to be a bloody Malfoy.

"I still don't understand," Draco admitted, the excitement in his voice still very much present but confusion seeping in. "They told me you were gone. Dead. That it was the way of things. That all Malfoy Squibs were…taken care of."

Cassie took the chance to settle down in the booth that Harry and Hermione had been occupying. Draco followed suit, sitting across from her in a daze. He reached for Hermione's hand so automatically that Cassie wasn't sure he even realized he had done it. The curly haired witch scooted in beside her brother, and it warmed her heart to see how happy they seemed. She couldn't believe her brother, after all those horrible years, was sitting right in front of her, and happier than she could have ever dared hope.

As Harry cautiously slid in the booth next to her, she explained. "Well, M-mother took me from the room. She apparated us to some small town in the country. She essentially changed my identity and left me in an orphanage with the promise of true death should I ever make any attempt to contact the family or tell anyone my true birth name."

Draco's happy features hardened into a cold mask at her words. His fist clenched in anger, his knuckles white before Hermione smoothed them out with a gentle touch. "Squib or not, you're family, Cas, and what they did was unforgivable."

Cassie shrugged helplessly, but her pink lips were still curled into a smile. "I'm not saying it is. But you should know that I've had a good life. I was adopted by the most wonderful family and I've got the best of friends," she reassured him, and no one missed the glance she threw Harry as she said it, "But I have missed you every day since I left England, and I've wanted nothing more than to let you know I was alive. But I admit, I was terrified. I've been terrified. Not of death, but that they might hurt you again, instead."

Draco had never wished he was anyone but a Malfoy so fiercely as he had in that moment. She had kept away in fear of him being hurt. "Merlin," he choked, "She'd have been a bloody Gryffindor! My sister, a Gryffindor!"

His exclamation lightened the mood considerably, Hermione letting out a soft laugh. She nudge the disbelieving Draco and teased, "Oh, stop. You know I would have taken excellent care of her."

He shot her a withering look before turning back to his sister with a smile. "Well, you needn't worry. Lucius is in Azkaban for life and Mother has cut off all ties with him. And well, I've cut off all ties with both of them."

The awkwardness was apparent when Cassie tilted her head in confusion. "Azkaban?"

"Um, it's a wizarding prison," Harry clarified, startling everyone with his voice. He had been largely forgotten by the rest of the group.

"He's in prison? So he was a part of the war then?" Cassie wondered, her suspicions proving right. Her three companions suddenly grew unnervingly quiet, all refusing to meet her gaze. "What? What is it? I figured he sided with the wrong people, I'm not surprised."

It was only then that she caught sight of the tattoo on her brother's left arm. It spanned from his elbow to his wrist, a deep, rich black that stood out shockingly against his white skin. A snake and a skull that had been flashed all over the few papers traveling wizards had shared with her. The Dark Mark.

"No!" she shouted unexpectedly, her raised voice making the other three jump. It only took Draco a split second to see that the silver eyes that matched his own were locked on his Dark Mark with horror.

"Cassie, it's not-" he tried to start, tugging his sleeve down over the offending brand. But she gave him no chance to explain.

"No! I don't believe it! After everything that happened? Everything with me? Until just minutes ago you thought I was dead because they killed me! Killed me for being lesser! And yet you went on to fight to enforce those ideals? To ensure the same thing would happen to others? How could you become anything like _him_?" Cassie raged, her sweet features twisted into a mask of fierce fury. She shoved Harry out of the booth and scrambled to her feet, whirling around to face the stricken boy still seated. "I have been missing the boy who tried to save me, but it turns out I wasn't the only one who died that night. I could have gone the rest of my life never knowing what a terrible person you grew up to be!"

Without another word, Cassie stormed off, leaving Draco an absolute wreck. Hermione comforted the distraught boy while Harry stood by in silence, for once in his life taking pity on his nemesis.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, I'm back! Don't hate me! My schedule is way busier than I thought it would be. But I've decided that no matter what, I will do my best to update weekly. I made it this time! Hopefully, I can continue that. I'm sure you understand that college kind of has to come a little bit first, yeah? Anyway, I hope you liked it! I mean, poor Draco, Cassie was too upset to let him explain. Next chapter Harry and Hermione will have a chance to really talk, Harry will have to defend Draco (much against his will) and George will be there too somehow because I miss him :) Your reviews make me so much more excited to write, so I'd love it if you let me know what you think :)**_


	20. Found and Lost

_Chapter Twenty_  
 _Found to Lost_

Still reeling in the fact that the girl who had caught his fancy was the sister of Draco Malfoy, Harry slid back into the booth. Hermione had her arm around Draco whose head was in his hands, his face blocked from Harry. He hated seeing how in sync they were, the ultimate level of comfort they shared. He couldn't quite wrap his head around the day.

"Draco, it'll be okay," Hermione assured quietly, glancing Harry's way for confirmation. He looked away, unsure that it would be. "We'll just let her calm down and explain it to her."

At her words, Draco whipped his head up. Hating that he was taking his anger out on her, he couldn't help but snap, "Oh really? How, pray tell? We can't even explain it to _Potter_! What makes you think we can explain any of it to her?"

Once again finding herself rolling her eyes at his dramatics, she flicked the tip of his nose. He glared at her through narrowed eyes as he rubbed it, muttering, "Merlin, I hate it when you do that."

"Then stop being an idiot," Hermione said simply. Harry had to stifle a chuckle. Unsurprisingly, she had even Malfoy wrapped around her little finger. It was a sight to behold. Draco nodded and let loose a troubled sigh. "Alright, alright. You're right. I just need to get my mind off it for a bit. I'll head home and check on Roo. You stay here and talk to Potter for once, yeah?"

Harry's nerves suddenly increased tenfold. They had tried to sit down and talk before, and he couldn't lie and say he'd been ungrateful for the distraction. Years of experience informed him that Hermione's fierce tongue would tear down any and all negative thoughts he had about their relationship. And while he honestly was willing to hear her out, she still scared him more than he'd like to admit. He nodded in agreement when Hermione looked to him. "Roo?" he wondered, not entirely sure he wanted to know.

"Oh, Harry, he's just the cutest little cat!" Hermione gushed, her brilliant smile returning at the thought of the gray furball. Harry made a face that had her stating, "Even Draco says he's cuter than Crooks, I'm not crazy."

He definitely did not believe her. If her previous taste in cats and her current taste in men were anything to go by, her judgement surely couldn't be trusted in that particular sense.

"I'll see you later," Hermione said to Draco. Before he rose to his feet, the blonde pressed a kiss to her forehead with a murmured, "Bye, love."

"Potter," Draco nodded in farewell, a nervousness in his eyes that only Hermione could detect. Harry watched him go in a stony silence.

Harry was startled out of his thoughts with a very straightforward question.

"Do you hate me?"

"Wh-what?" Harry spluttered. Hermione's worried eyes studied his shocked face, surely looking for the answer he hadn't supplied her yet. "Of course not, Hermione," he said when he collected his thoughts. "Why would you ask me that?"

She fiddled with a purple napkin, tearing it into anxious pieces. "Well, I sort of betrayed you and all that, didn't I?"

"Oh. _That_."

"Yes. _That_ ," she echoed sadly, "I went about it all wrong. But, Harry, I never meant to hurt you. I just never knew how to tell you. And then it was too late to tell you."

He tried soaking it all in. She was such a talkative person that he figured she would have most of this conversation herself. That suited him just fine.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione offered him a sheepish admission. "But Draco or not, I would have done the same thing. I still would have left the way I did. I was so scared, and I felt so alone. I know I wasn't,, far from it, but that's how I felt. It's no excuse, but I was not in a good place. None of us were, I know. But I'd pretended to be together for so long that I just…broke. And I was scared by how easily I did."

"I know," Harry finally said. She seemed a bit surprised to hear him talk. He usually let her ramble on for a good while before adding any input. "Before I realized you were with him, I completely understood. I guess I still do. Malfoy just distracted me from that, I guess. I defended your actions to everyone. Some thought it cowardly, but I quickly reminded them that you are possibly the greatest example of a Gryffindor anyone could ask for. Ron was livid, claiming you abandoned us, but I thought better of it. I'm not saying I wasn't at least a little hurt, but I knew you'd get back in touch when you were okay. I was just worried that it wouldn't be for a long time."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione cried, "I'm so sorry! I can't believe how selfish I was."

"No, Mione," he argued, grabbing her hand. "It's in the past, I forgive you. If anything, I feel like I've been a bad friend," Harry sighed. "If you were so scared of what I might do that you felt safer leaving, braving the world on your own after the war, what does that say about me? You're family, Hermione, the sister I never had. I never should have made you so nervous about coming to me. We're both at fault here. I'm not saying I approve, because honestly, I haven't the faintest clue what you're thinking, but I can't stay mad. I didn't know if we'd ever hear from you again. Having you back is all that matters."

"Thank you," she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. Harry nodded, the smile on his face turning serious. "But Hermione, I need to understand how you two happened. That would be a betrayal more than leaving the way you did. I thought you hated him as much as Ron and I did. How long did you lie to us about that?"

Hermione hung her head before raising her eyes to his. "Since fourth year," she answered sheepishly.

"Merlin, that long?"

"Yes. But we didn't start…dating until after the war, when I found out he was alive," she explained quietly. At Harry's curious but wary expression, she answered his unasked question. "It was too dangerous before. We agreed that if we both made it out alive we'd meet under the Whomping Willow after the final battle if we still wanted to be together."

"But you heard he died," Harry said, understanding the distraught state in which he'd last seen her. "I'm sorry."

She smiled sadly in return. "Harry. Don't be angry, but I'm afraid that's all I can tell you."

"What? That can't be it! What are you on about?"

"Harry," she said earnestly, "I want to tell you more than anything in the world. But I can't. Do you understand? I _can't_ tell you. Neither can Draco."

Her honey brown eyes were staring so intensely into his that he had to look away. She seemed to be begging him to understand, but how could he? "I don't get what you're-oh. _Oh_!"

"You didn't, Hermione! You didn't make an Unbreakable Vow!" Harry groaned loud enough for Helen to peak her head through the kitchen door. He waved her off politely. His brunette friend's cheeks were flushed pink. "Draco, too?" She nodded reluctantly.

"No wonder you didn't keep in touch," he sighed, his head starting to ache, "You literally couldn't have explained it to any of us. I really don't blame you. Ron alone would've been another bloody war."

"It was the only way we could ensure all of your safety," she said, because there wasn't much else that she could say really.

"Our safety? We? What did you two do?"

But she only shook her head, lips pulled down in a frustrated frown.

"Was Malfoy really a Death Eater?" he asked urgently, desperate to understand. While she couldn't answer him vocally, her eyes could. And they did. What he saw in them contradicted nearly everything he ever believed.

Suddenly, he gasped. Hermione looked to him in concern. His emerald eyes were the size of saucers. Before she could ask what was wrong, Harry spoke. "Sorry, something just finally made sense to me." Hermione waited for him to expand on that. He looked sheepish. "Well, when I told you guys what I saw in Snape's memories…I didn't quite tell you everything I saw."

"I saw him talking to Malfoy. Late or end of fifth year, I'm guessing. They were arguing about something that Malfoy didn't want to do. And Snape kept saying that he would do it if he wanted to keep her safe. I guess I figured he was talking about getting the Dark Mark. I always assumed that the 'her' he was referring to was Malfoy's mother. So, I always kind of figured that some memories got mixed in there accidently, but wasn't very important. But now, now I think I get it."

"And?" Her face was hopeful. If he could figure it out on his own, she could get around the Vow. She hadn't wanted to take it, but she knew she had to do her part in the war. She just wanted him to understand a small piece of the madness that her life had been before she ever agreed to go Horcrux hunting.

"The 'her' they were talking about…it was you, wasn't it?" She looked pained as she nodded her confirmation. Harry continued, his mind being completely blown for the millionth time in just days. "He took the Mark to keep you safe?"

"I can't answer that, Harry," she said tragically. He squeezed her hand. "You don't have to. I already know."

The two longtime friends scrambled to their feet and threw their arms around each other. "I'm so sorry," they both cried in unison. Peals of laughter escaped them, relieved to be together again with no hard feelings.

"I'm probably going to be the easiest person to convince, Hermione," Harry said against her cheek, "Are you ready for everyone else?"

Hermione ignored his question because they both knew she wasn't. Instead, she teased, "You just think you were the easiest. I'm afraid George has you beat."

She said it before she realized that maybe she had screwed over the remaining twin. The last thing she wanted was for Harry to be mad at him for something she did. But once again, Harry surprised her. With a chuckle, he said, "Of course George already knew."

"Sorry. You and Ron were never as nosy as him and Fred," she said truthfully. And what a blessing that had been. Harry grew wary of her suddenly mischievous grin. "So, Harry, how does it feel fancying Malfoy?"

And just like that, all the barriers, all the negative feelings that stood between them crashed to the ground and they were two thirds of the Golden Trio again.

"Oh, don't even," Harry growled, his cheeks a brilliant Gryffindor scarlet.

* * *

George was very irritably roused from a midafternoon nap by a pounding knock on the door. Curled up under the sheets beside him, an equally irked blonde sleepily shoved at him. "Go tell them to piss off, Red," she mumbled against her pillow. He scooted back over to her, ignoring her instruction. The pounding continued. With a sigh, the ginger rolled lazily off the bed and shuffled to the door, grumbling all the way. "It's not even my flat."

He whipped open the door, completely unashamed that he was in nothing but boxers until he realized Cassie was the aggravated knocker. She seemed too distraught to notice, but he still felt a bit rude. "Cassie? You okay?"

"No!" she sobbed, throwing herself at him. He caught the tiny girl in his arms, offering her possibly the most awkward hug he had ever given. Though nothing near as awkward as the hug Draco received from Voldemort. Ah, what a memory.

"Uh, what?"

George relaxed immediately upon hearing Becs' voice and looked to her for rescue. She almost laughed at his alarmed expression until she realized her best friend was crying. Cassie was the little sister she would rather have had than her actual sister, so seeing her so upset was unpleasant. Especially since the last time she had seen Cassie so bad was when she found out her boyfriend had been cheating on her. Boyfriend. Boys. Harry.

Becs saw red.

"What did that slimy git do to you?" she demanded, prying Cassie from a relieved George. He caught sight of her furious face and found himself retreating from her rage rapidly. He ran off to throw his pants on before slipping back into the room. "I swear I'll wring that boy's neck. And George'll help me if he wants to keep his own."

George rubbed his neck nervously.

But Cassie was shaking her head. "No, not him. Not Harry."

Becs eyebrows knit in confusion, pulling away from her friend. She set her on the couch, flopping down beside her, George perched on the arm. "Then who?"

"D-Drake," she sniffled, her tears falling slower now. Becs and George shared a bewildered glance. "He-he's alive," Cassie stuttered for Becs' sake. She had told her, like Harry, that she had a brother who died. The jaws of her companions hit the floor. George recovered first. "Well, that's great! Isn't it?"

Cassie wiped the salty tears from her face. "It-it was. But then he turned out to be terrible. Just like my parents. And if that wasn't enough. Harry's going to hate me now."

"Why? What does he have to do with it?" Becs wondered, feeling helpless.

"Because now he knows I'm a Malfoy!" she groaned despairingly. While the name meant nothing to Becs, George fell off the arm of the couch in shock. Becs whipped around to frown at him. "What are you-"

But he cut her off before she could finish. Scrambling to his feet, eyes wider than the moon, George cried, "You're a bloody _Malfoy_?"

Cassie buried her face in her hands, having feared that exact reaction. Clearly George had known her family. Feeling lost beyond all belief, Becs rose to her feet. "I'm clearly missing something here, so I'll just go make us some tea."

When the avid surfur exited the room, George kept his gaze on her. "You're a Malfoy. And Drake…is Draco?"

Cassie nodded reluctantly. She jumped when George burst out into raucous laughter. She removed her hands from her face to find him practically rolling on the floor. "That's literally the best thing I've ever heard!"

Irritated by his hysterical giggles, Cassie nudged him in the ribs with her foot. He calmed down, eventually, and took a seat on the coffee table across from her. "Sorry, sorry. It's just that…wow."

"He was a _Death Eater_ , George!" she exclaimed in a hushed voice. She was suddenly glad that George was here. She felt bad leaving Becs out of the loop, but she realized it was something she could only talk to a wizard about.

To her surprise, he scoffed, "No, he wasn't."

"Yes, he was! He had the Dark Mark and everything. And our father is in Azkaban for it!" she argued, angry that he thought he knew better.

"No, he wasn't. I don't know Malfoy terribly well, but I know him enough that he was not a Death Eater in the way that others were. I don't know the full story, but I assure you that he's not a bad person. If he were, I never would have helped him be with Hermione."

Cassie shot him a curious look.

He shook his head and said, "I'm not explaining all of that mess to you, but you should talk to him. I don't know how much he'll be able to explain, but it would do you good, I think. If how he's been with Hermione is anything to go by, you should know he's not a bad person. Also, you should talk to Harry."

"Since when are you the voice of reason?" Cassie questioned irritably. But George caught her thankful smile.

* * *

Draco greeted Hermione warmly when she popped back into their flat. Roo raced over to her and mewed until she scooped him up. He slid an arm around her waist and stole a quick kiss from her. Or tried to, anyway. To his displeasure, Roo found himself back by his masters' feet as they lost themselves in each other.

Several moments later, they pulled away from each other, gasping for breath. Hermione giggled as Draco continued to pepper her face with kisses. They collapsed onto the couch where Hermione snuggled into Draco. He wrapped an arm around her to keep her from slipping to the floor, breathing in her heavenly scent. Hermione relished the warmth of his body and the feel of his arm around her.

Sure, they had been through hell and still had yet another different hell to navigate through, they still suffered from nightmares, still experienced the after effects of the Cruciatus, but they were together. Despite all odds, they had each other in exactly the way they wanted. Neither ever believed they could feel so much love for one person, Draco especially.

"Harry doesn't hate me," Hermione murmured sleepily. Draco smiled to himself. Harry's opinion had perhaps been the only one of her friends he had hoped for. "Oh?"

"He's trying to understand. That's all I can ask for."

"Mmm," Draco replied, slipping off to sleep. The warmth of each other and their draining day lulling them both into a light slumber.

What seemed like minutes later, a crashing sound startled the blissful couple awake. Draco had just risen to his feet, posed protectively in front of Hermione as the room flooded with wand yielding men.

* * *

In her search for her brother, Cassie ran quite literally into Harry. They both blushed fiercely, awkwardness weighing heavily between them. He had just been leaving the café as she was trying to enter. After a few stiff gestures, they found themselves on the bench out front.

"Do you hate me?" Cassie blurted suddenly.

Harry couldn't contain his chuckle. "You know, you're not the first person to ask me that today."

The blonde beside him squirmed. "Do you?"

"No. I don't hate anyone! Do all friends who are girls think everyone hates them?" he wondered teasingly to lighten the mood. She glared at him, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry, sorry," he mumbled. "No, of course I don't. Why? You think that I would find out you were a Malfoy and instantly hate you?"

"Well, you seem to have plenty of reasons to," she admitted sadly. She perked up when she felt Harry's fingers twine through hers. "You're right. Your father is awful. He was a loyal servant to Voldemort. He nearly got George's sister killed, he tried to kill my friends and me, and he tortured and killed countless muggles. Your brother has been my 'nemesis' since we started school. He bullied people, he was prejudiced, he was dangerous. He was a total git. Your mother supported them both."

Cassie grew more and more disheartened as he continued, but he wasn't finished. "But your mother is also one of the reasons I'm alive. She lied to Voldemort at risk of death because I told her Draco was still alive. And your brother…I've apparently been wrong about for a long time."

"George said he wasn't a real Death Eater?"

"Oh, he was. There's no denying the Mark. I don't know the whole story, not sure anyone ever will, but I think he did it to save Hermione. Which was crazy. He couldn't have picked a more dangerous person for himself," Harry sighed, hating to admit that maybe Draco wasn't the cowardly Slytherin he always thought.

Cassie tilted her head curiously. "What do you mean?"

Realizing he had never explained Hermione's heritage, Harry said, "Oh. Hermione's a muggleborn. And as my best friend, she was the most wanted muggleborn of all."

"Muggleborn? He risked his life for a muggleborn?" Cassie whispered in shock.

"I know. I can't believe it either. I never thought I would be defending Malfoy, but here I am. He's not what you think he's become, what I thought he was. Something tells me that losing you saved him from that fate," Harry observed gently. Cassie's heart ached at thinking what Draco must have gone through in his life. Being expelled from her life suddenly made her seem the lucky sibling.

"I have to go apologize to him," she said determinedly. Harry agreed wholeheartedly, though it still felt odd encouraging something that would make Draco happy. He supposed he had better get used to it. He helped her to her feet wordlessly. She didn't get far before Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her around to face him.

"You need to know that I don't hate you. It doesn't matter who your family is. You've had a separate life, but even so, I could never hate you," Harry informed her. "Nothing will change how much I want to be with you, Cassie."

Momentarily forgetting about everything but the wild haired, green eyed boy smile shyly at her, Cassie slowly laced her arms around his neck and claimed his lips with her own. It was pure bliss, their hearts pounding against each other, their kiss leisurely and content, a promise of a long future ahead.

When they pulled away, Harry pulled her in for a tight hug that she returned enthusiastically. Her hand slipped into his as they stepped away from each other. They ambled down the street, hand swinging between them, goofy smiles lighting up their faces.

The deliriously happy mood around them shattered the moment Cassie caught sight of a familiar ginger waving frantically at them. Harry and Cassie shared a worried look as they watched him run over. He had to pause to catch his breath when he reached them. Harry didn't like the grim look on his face.

"What is it, George?"

"It's Malfoy," he gasped between breaths. Cassie's grip on Harry's hand tightened. They had been on their way to see him. What could be wrong?

"He's just been arrested."

* * *

 ** _A/N: Mwahahahaha! ;) And you thought Cassie being his sister was supposed to be the big twist! This cliffie wins, yes?_**


	21. Heavy Headlines

_Chapter Twenty One_  
 _Heavy Headlines_

Left to his own devices, Ron Weasley found himself with very little to occupy his time. Having been abandoned by his supposed best friends, he found his life dreadfully unexciting. Over time, he had come to accept Harry leaving with George, but it still stung that he hadn't been invited. He had his good days and his bad days.

On one of his exceptionally bad days, Ron had found himself cornered by Rita Skeeter. Without Hermione to keep her reined in, her outlandish stories were back in multitudes. The papers were riddled with her outrageous articles, though now people tended to regard her with more skepticism. Her days of unquestioning public response were over. There was doubt, there was ridicule. And she hated it. So, when she had stumbled across a brooding member of the Golden Trio, she thought her prayers had been answered.

The three saviors of the wizarding world had become recluses. Hermione Granger hadn't been seen since the final battle. Harry Potter only ventured into public view when absolutely necessary, claiming to be taking a few months to relax. Ron Weasley, the member that drew the least attention by no fault of his own, was seen only slightly more frequently than Harry. And other than the first few initial interviews done directly following the war, no reporter had managed to coax a word from any of the three.

Needless to say, Rita Skeeter had been, at best, hoping for a few words from Ron to pique interest in her writing again. What she had received was the biggest headline since the death of Voldemort.

 ** _War Heroine Hermione Granger Missing Since Final Battle_**

The select few who had known that she had run off merely rolled their eyes at the claim. The rest of wizarding England, however, went into a tizzy. The poster child for Muggleborns, arguably the group of magical people the war had affected the greatest, was gone without a trace. Many cried out that it was the work of Death Eaters, a last attempt at enforcing their beliefs. But there was nothing to go on either way.

The public tried to look again to Harry Potter for answers, sure that he must know the whereabouts of his friend. But the Boy-Who-Lived was not in the country to be questioned. Panic arose until a statement was made by Arthur Weasley saying that he and his son, George Weasley of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes relocated in attempt to come to terms with everything that had happened. He added to the statement, of course made with a trusted reporter, that Hermione had left the family a note saying she just needed time to adjust. The masses let out a sigh of relief that Harry was fine and that Hermione might be okay.

Unfortunately, Ron had let slip that his brother and Harry had ended up in Australia. What had started out as a search for the Boy-Who-Lived had turned out much more lucrative results than an exclusive with the media shy boy wizard. The photographer Rita had sent had returned with a picture of a rather forgettable building with a wildly landscaped front yard. She had been about to hex the useless witch until she pointed out the pair of people headed up the stone path.

At first, Rita thought it was just a silly couple, the girl thrown up over the boy's shoulder. But upon closer inspection, she recognized the bushy brown curls that haunted her dreams. Such a dreadful girl, in her opinion. And the boy would have been recognizable even without his face turned back to glance at the girl over his shoulder. Draco Malfoy's platinum blonde hair was a dead giveaway. The next morning's Daily Prophet sent the wizarding public into a frenzied outrage.

 ** _Hermione Granger Kidnapped by Death Eater Draco Malfoy_**

With Ginny in America at a Quidditch training camp, there were no Weasleys' in England that knew the true nature of Hermione and Draco's relationship. As such, there was nobody to refute this claim. Rita suddenly found herself more sought after than ever before.

Ron had found a new outlet for his bitterness. Draco Malfoy. He felt relieved when he realized that Hermione hadn't left him by choice. Malfoy kidnapping her was much easier to swallow than thinking she ran off on her own free will. He knew she'd never leave him that way. He felt important having Aurors consult with him. He was suddenly the most interesting member of the Golden Trio simply because he was the only one available.

He wasn't terribly concerned with Hermione's well-being. Obviously, he cared that she was okay, but he doubted that she was an easy person to keep imprisoned. She could definitely take care of herself. And while he knew Malfoy to be a Death Eater, he knew he wasn't as cruel as his family had been. All the same, Ron wanted her home, and he wanted her home now.

It was about two months after declaring Draco Malfoy her kidnapper that the Aurors finally tracked them down.

* * *

"Arrested?" Harry repeated in disbelief. "What?"

George nodded grimly. "Hermione said they woke up to Aurors everywhere and then they took Malfoy back with them by portkey. Didn't even give them a chance to explain."

Cassie felt ill. She had only just gotten her brother back. And he was already gone and thinking she hated him. She had never felt so low.

Harry rubbed his temple, head ache returning rapidly. "On what charges?"

George rattled them off with ease. "Being a known and active Death Eater, fleeing the country, use of Unforgivables, supplying the Death Eaters entrance to Hogwarts, the murder of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and the kidnapping of Hermione Granger."

Cassie wanted to cry. Again. Despite being reassured by the two boys in front of her that her brother wasn't bad, accusations that serious made doubts creep in. Harry, on the other hand was outraged. "He didn't kill Dumbledore! Snape did. And only on his orders. I told the Ministry that! And kidnapping Hermione? Are they kidding?"

It discomforted Cassie immensely that Harry was only contradicting two of Draco's charges. They had said that while he wasn't the Death Eater he could have been, he still _was_ one. Overwhelmed by all the new information that today had brought, Cassie figured she'd understand everything in due time. She resolved to be patient, though it was already proving difficult.

George didn't know how to respond to Harry. Instead, he suggested, "Maybe you should come back with me. Hermione's back at her flat in a right state. She's beside herself."

Harry looked to Cassie for permission only to find her already nodding at the ginger. Without thinking, George grabbed each of their free hands and apparated them to Hermione's flat. When they popped into existence on her front yard, Cassie crumpled to the ground. Harry scolded George as he reached down to check on the poor girl.

She groaned, blinking her eyes open. "God, that was awful! What the hell, George?"

The lanky ginger's cheeks flushed crimson as he shrugged sheepishly. "I forgot."

A loud crash from inside the house drew all of their attention. Harry pulled Cassie to her feet and the three ran to the door. Harry kicked it in and they rushed inside.

Not one to know girls' reactions to their boyfriends being arrested, Harry supposed that Hermione would be a weeping mess. However, he was sure she'd hex him if he ever admitted that. Because what they faced was most absolutely not a weepy Hermione.

"Where have they taken him?" Hermione raged, her voice cracking in the middle of her sentence. A petrified Auror who looked to have barely a year or two on the witch cowered beneath her ferocious gaze. She held his wand in her hand, her own pointed threateningly at him. "Tell me right now, or so help me I'll-"

"Hermione?" Harry blurted out before thinking. She whirled on him expecting another intruder, wand trained at his face. Her taught shoulders relaxed minutely when she registered that it was only Harry. "Oh, Harry. Hi."

He cautiously advanced toward her, careful not to turn her wrath on him. He pitied the Auror at the end of her wand. "Mione, what are you doing?"

"They sent this useless excuse for an Auror to 'collect me'. As if I'm some kind of prize," she snapped irritably, annoyed at having been treated as such, "Well, no one's taking me anywhere. Not until they tell me precisely where they've taken Draco. They think he bloody kidnapped me!"

"I know, George told me. But I don't think terrorizing this bloke is going to help get him back," Harry reasoned, slowly raising his hand to her wand. But he needn't have. She dropped her hand and tossed the Auror his wand. He was afraid to pick it up. Harry couldn't blame him. Hermione was a force to be reckon with if she felt she had been scorned.

Hermione collapsed onto the couch she and Draco had been asleep on just an hour before. "I'm so stupid," she exclaimed depreciatively. "How could I ever have thought we'd be free to go? To just live?"

She curled up against George when he sank onto the red cushion beside her. With an arm draped over her shoulders, he held her close. "You guys just got caught up by the fact that you both survived the war," he suggested with a shrug. She sighed and looked to Harry. Her words were desperate. "I have to go back! I have to explain everything. They can't send him to Azkaban, Harry, they can't."

"Hermione," he said softly, "You told me yourself that you can't tell anyone. What exactly do you expect to do?"

Weeping mess Hermione was threatening to emerge as she whimpered, "I-I don't know. Merlin, Harry, what am I going to do?"

The Boy-Who-Lived had seen his dearest friends broken and defeated and tortured enough for one life time. Consequences be damned, he would bring Malfoy back to Hermione if it killed him. He threw a glance over his shoulder to the Auror who was righting himself. He was fairly certain he recognized the new recruit. He was from the most recent graduated class of Aurors that had come along when the Head Auror had offered him a position straight after the war. To say the least, he had not expected Harry to shut him down so resolutely.

"Heavensby, right?" Harry questioned. His blue eyes widened measurably, but he nodded in affirmation. Turning back to Hermione, he said, "We're going to have Heavensby here give us the portkey meant to take you back. We'll go straight to Kingsley and settle this."

"Really, sir, I have orders-" Heavensby tried to sound confident, but the waver in his voice gave him away. Harry silenced him with a sharp glare and held out a hand for the portkey. It was a Tower of London key chain. Hermione was shaking her head when he returned with the item. "Harry, I can't ask you to do this. You and George have a life here. I can't take you away from that. Not for something that's likely to end in disaster."

"You're family, Hermione. We do anything for family," George assured her, pulling her to her feet. Hermione eyed them both carefully. "You're sure you want to be involved in my mess?"

"I've always dragged you into mine," Harry laughed, "It seems only right to return the favor."

George offered her a tight smile. "Becs might kill me, but I'm a part of this, too."

With the boys decidedly going back to their home country with her, Cassie felt out of place suddenly. These people had had a whole life together before they met her. She could only wish that she had been able to be a part of it. And it seemed even now that she was, she was still on the outside. Hermione caught her eye before she could look away. Her cheeks flushed under her calculating gaze. Draco's girlfriend seemed sweet enough, but she _had_ just witnessed her spectacular rage.

"Fine," Hermione relented. Both boys sighed, content to have settled the matter without further argument. "But only if Cassie comes, too." The boys tried to protest, and Cassie gaped at her in awe, but Hermione wouldn't budge. "It's only right. She actually _is_ family to one of those involved. I say if she wants to come, she should. That is, Cassie, if you feel safe returning."

"You want me to come?" the young blonde asked in shock. Hermione nodded vigorously. A tentative smile made its way onto her face. "Hell yes, I'll go."

* * *

"She's gonna kill me. I'm dead. That's it, my life, it's over," George grumbled as the odd quartet made their way through the dark. "She'll find that shark and she'll-"

"George!" Harry barked gruffly, "Shut it, would you!"

"Easy enough for you to say, boy wonder, with your girly friend right beside you! Mine's thousands of miles away plotting my untimely demise as we speak!" George cried irritably. Hermione patted his back sympathetically. "They'll probably give mine the Kiss if we don't get a move on so will the _both_ of you shut it?"

They sheepishly mumbled their apologies and carried on.

They were navigating the darkened streets of Diagon Alley, heading to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Everyone save Cassie, who knew no one in the country, promptly agreed it was the safest spot to spend the night. Grimmauld place still gave Harry the willies and the Burrow was out of the question. It was far too late at night to unload both Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy's long lost sister on the rest of the Weasley's.

Once inside, Harry and Hermione rushed to liven up the flat above the shop. No one had lived there since, well…

George took his time in the shop below. It had been far too long since he had stood in the masterpiece that he and Fred had built. He hadn't realized how much he had missed it. Cassie approached him cautiously with questioning eyes. In that moment, George remembered what it was to be one of the Weasley twins, inspiring wonder and awe with laughs along the way as he demonstrated his products to a wide eyed Cassie.

Hermione and Harry found the two in stitches on the floor covered in pink sparkles and confetti. Where Hermione might have rolled her eyes before, she could only smile. To see George so alive again was a wonder in itself.

Once they all regained control of their maturity, they settled in to discuss their plan of attack.

"Hermione, I know you just want to burst into the Ministry and inform them that they're all lousy fools, but I think we all agree that's more my style," Harry guessed. Hermione crossed her arms in a huff. He wasn't wrong. "But you've been gone for over a year. And everyone thinks you were kidnapped. You can't just barge in. We have to do this rationally."

"Merlin's beard," George laughed, "Did I miss the world ending? Harry and Mione fancy Malfoys, Harry's the one reminding Mione to be rational, and I'm agreeing?"

* * *

"Tell me, please, what do you want from me?" Draco demanded impatiently. He shook his shackled hands at the Aurors sitting across from him. They shared a smug smirk, a facial expression that irked him immensely. That was his thing. He did not appreciate it being used against him. Only Hermione could get away with that. Thinking of her only heightened his anger.

The Auror to the right, Hastings, was long in the face and large in the ears with a snaggle tooth smile that would have made Hermione's parents weep. His partner, Jameson, a lean dirty blonde with ice blue eyes was looking down at Draco over his unusually long nose.

"Justice," Jameson answered curtly. Draco rolled his eyes to the heavens and gestured for some elaboration. "I don't know why you need me to explain this to you, little Malfoy. You're a Death Eater, are you not? That right there is enough to seal you a fate in Azkaban."

Fear finally sank its jagged clutches into Draco's heart. Of course, his face betrayed nothing of his concern. "That's actually a rather grey topic, I'm afraid," he admitted, cursing that blasted old man for making him take an Unbreakable Vow. How was he supposed to prove his innocence if neither he nor Hermione could explain what had happened?

Hastings snorted most unattractively. "Grey area? I'd say it's rather clear cut. Murder, torture, kidnapping? Hermione Granger may never be the same after her imprisonment for all we know."

Frustration boiling over, Draco slammed his shackled hands down on the table and the two men jumped. "I did _not_ kidnap Hermione Granger! If you believe nothing else, believe that!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Death Eater," Hastings dismissed causually. Draco's anger soared to new heights, but he knew unleashing it on the two imbecile Aurors would only hurt him. He sighed in temporary defeat and hung his head in his hands as the door fell shut. When he looked up again, he was alone in the cell. A weak stream of light trickled into the small room, illuminating the narrow cot beside him, the bars of the cell shutting him in. He felt the chill seep into his very bones, and teh proud boy shrank into himself.

A ghostly black figure drifted past the door, its faceless hooded head seeming to turn to take him in. Fists clenched in terror, Draco squeezed his eyes shut as if not seeing the dementor meant it wasn't there. He saw Hermione's beautiful, loving face in his mind's eye and he willed himself to hold onto her.

"Please come get me, love," he pleaded in a desperate whisper in the grim little cell in Azkaban that was to be his new home should the Ministry succeed.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Fear not! Everyone will be reunited in the next chapter, the Weasleys, Hermione and Draco (though their troubles won't be over), etc. I promise a happy ending, if that's something you're worried about. But a lot more needs to happen before we get to the 'And they lived happily ever after'. Hope you liked it! Thank you for sticking with me!**_


	22. Azkaban Valentine

_Chapter Twenty Two_  
 _Azkaban Valentine_

"I can't believe it's my first Valentine's Day with a Valentine and I'm celebrating it in Azkaban!" Hermione exclaimed in disbelief.

Leaning heavily on his hands to hold his head up, Draco offered a snort in response. "At least you're not the one _in_ Azkaban."

Hermione dismissed his observation with a wave of her hand and rolled her eyes to the heavens. "There you go again, always making things about you."

To any outsider, Hermione's behavior would have seemed appalling. To Draco, it only made him love her more. He knew he looked like hell. Hermione hadn't quite been quick enough in masking the shocked horror that came across her delicate features upon seeing him for the first time since he'd been taken. It had been a week, or so he guessed, the eternal dreariness of Azkaban blending one day to the next so seamlessly that he couldn't be sure. However long it had been was simply too long for him.

"I love that you're trying to distract me from thinking about where I am, but Hermione, I'd rather just talk straight with you," he sighed honestly. Hermione's fake smile fell to pieces, the corners of her lips sinking into a troubled frown. She tangled her fingers through his outstretched hand and took a seat across from him. He pulled their locked hands to his lips and kissed her silky white skin.

"No, no," he begged, "Don't cry, love. Please don't cry."

Hermione hung her head, her wild mane of chocolate brown curls hiding her face. She was ashamed of the tears welling in her eyes but knew he understood them. "I'm sorry," she sniffled, "I want you out of here so terribly."

"What? And take me away from all of this luxury?" he questioned with a pitiful attempt at laughter. Her fierce glare chastised him, but she couldn't deny that her frown lessened. "Okay, okay. So, this place is hell. We both know that already. Why don't you tell me what you've been up to? Please, I need some of the outside world."

But he didn't. Not really. Just feeling the familiar warmth of Hermione's hand in his was enough to bring him back from the brink.

Though the topic Draco knew he had to ask about was equally as daunting as Azkaban to him, he had to know. "So, how bad is it?"

"How bad is what?" Hermione wondered, her eyebrows knitting together in curiosity.

"You know," he said, "Coming back to a country who evidently thought I kidnapped you?"

"Oh. That."

"Yes, _that_. How have you been?"

"Well…"

* * *

"Mione, we have to go see my family," George repeated for the millionth time, his voice laced with exasperation. The brunette witch was so unbelievably stubborn. "We've all agreed that you can't just barge into the Ministry. My dad can get us to Kingsley and we can sort this all out."

Hermione grudgingly agreed, and trudgede on beside them. For Cassie's sake, they had opted for Muggle transportation to the town nearest the Burrow and were content to walk from there. It had been a great plan until Hermione remembered how much time Muggle transportation gave her to think about how much she didn't want to face the other Weasleys.

They finally climbed the last hill before the Burrow and paused to catch their breath.

"Ah, home, sweet home," George sighed bitter sweetly. The ginger squared his shoulders as the group of four gazed down the hillside at the haphazardly stacked house.

Cassie offered him a reassuring smile. She knew how much the boy had grown to love her quaint Australian beach town and a certain blonde that lived there, but she could only imagine how it felt to see his childhood home again. And besides, if she worried about how he felt returning home, it was a good distraction from the fact that she was too. Despite being in the comforting presence of two good friends and Hermione, who she had already grown to care about, she couldn't quite forget that she was finally back in England after a lifetime of fearing it.

The sight of the Burrow was achingly familiar to Harry as well, and it only made the reality of the situation worse. Was he really about to enter the home of his ex-girlfriend with his new maybe-sort-of-not girlfriend? Not to mention how the rest of the family might feel about it. Although, Harry was pretty positive that his new love interest would be much more warmly received than Hermione's.

Bless her heart, Hermione was putting on a brave face. It faltered considerably when their descent down the hill revealed a mass of reporters and photographers camped out in the front lawn. They were spotted before they could hide, and the four found themselves barraged by questions and flashes.

"Miss Granger! How was Malfoy able to-"

"Did you run from the Ministry's help to-"

"Harry, is your new lady-"

"Potter, have you known where Miss Granger was all-"

It was Arthur Wealsey that came to the rescue. Having heard the relatively peaceful reporters roar to life, he assumed someone must be arriving. The patriarch of the Weasley clan was most certainly not expecting to see that particular son struggling to make his way through the sea of bodies.

A well worded spell sent the masses flying to the sides, leaving a part down the middle. His eyebrows retreated into his windswept hair when he caught sight of the girl George was trying to shield. He'd recognize that bushy head of hair anywhere.

With a renewed urgency, Arthur ushered the four kids in and slammed the door behind them. He had hardly turned the lock before he felt the weight of three bodies latch onto him. At first he staggered under the unexpected weight but then he shook with a hearty laugh.

"Oh, you crazy kids, what in Merlin's name are you doing?" he cried delightedly. When they released him, Arthur had eyes for Hermione only. Tears were welling up in her warm brown eyes and she smiled somewhat uncertainly at him. It wasn't necessary. Mr. Weasley swept her into a bone-crushing hug just as Molly Weasley entered the room to complain about the fuss.

She caught one sight of George and Harry and launched herself at them. "Oh, my boys! You're back!"

Meanwhile, Hermione whispered, "Oh, Mr. Weasley, I've missed you all terribly."

Mrs. Weasley, having heard Hermione's hushed voice over her cries of delight, practically shoved the boys away from her as she bee lined toward the girl. Hermione's ribs creaked in protest of Mrs. Weasley's hug, but she was far too happy to care.

"Hermione, my dear! Oh, it's so good to know that you're safe now!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, relief evident in her pink tinged cheeks. Her eyes were dancing happily as she took in the three children that had been missing from the everyday Weasley life. Her eyes fell on the shy Cassie who looked terribly uncomfortable.

"And who might you be?" she asked kindly, still unwilling to release Hermione from her grasp, afraid she might disappear again.

Harry cleared his throat, and the scarlet blush on his cheeks was noted by Mrs. Weasley as he introduced, "Mrs. Weasley, this is Cassie. She, uh, decided to come to England with us."

Mrs. Weasley couldn't decide which girl to fuss over. She had been alone in a house of boys for too long. And even when Ginny was home, it was like having another son most times. In the end, she chose Hermione.

"Oh, I've missed you terribly, Hermione! I've been so worried! It's always so wonderful to get even one member of the family back."

Behind her, George crossed his arms and pouted. "Oi, what are Harry and I? Next store neighbors?"

Mrs. Weasley hushed him with a happy smile.

"Boys, Hermione, not that we aren't thrilled to see you, but with everything that's been going on…" Mr. Weasley began, his brow knitting in confusion. "You must understand it's unexpected. Hermione was _maybe_ kidnapped? And then you too also show up at the same time?"

"I wasn't kidnapped," Hermione corrected automatically in an affronted voice, her hands on her hips. Harry waved her off with a look that read, 'Not now.'

"I'm afraid it's a dreadfully long story, Dad," George admitted with a laugh.

A new voice floated down the stairs; a voice that made Hermione and Harry tense. "What's a long story?"

Cassie, standing quite uncomfortably by George's side, unknowingly witnessed the first reunion since the final battle of the one and only Golden Trio.

The red head that tramped down the stairs was lanky, more so than George, with a freckle splattered face and sky blue eyes. He didn't seem particularly intimidating to her, but she noticed both Harry and Hermione stiffen as he entered the room. When he caught sight of them, the ginger froze, his mouth gaping open.

"H-hi, Ron," Hermione squeaked nervously. Cassie had to do a double take. Where had the fiery witch that threatened the Auror gone? She couldn't reconcile the two sides of Hermione, simply not believing someone so unimpressive could be so daunting to the fierce girl.

"Mione!" he bellowed enthusiastically, rushing across the room. His hug took her off her feet and she let out a strangled gasp. "Can't…breathe."

He set her down sheepishly, but his grin went from ear to ear. "Mione! Merlin, it's been ages! Are you alright?"

"I've certainly been better," Hermione grumbled to herself. Mistaking her displeasure for her 'kidnapping', the Weasley's rushed to offer her comforts. With an inward sigh, she waved them off politely.

Despite Ron's delight in seeing Hermione, his behavior to Harry and his brother was lukewarm at best. It struck Cassie as odd that the boy Harry had talked about so often, his best friend, was treating him as only slightly more than a stranger.

"Who's this?" Ron wondered, eyeing the slight blonde over. He squinted at her. Something about her seemed so familiar.

"I'm Cassie. I'm a friend of George and Harry's," she answered pleasantly, her eyes darting to Harry. Her face fell when he only snorted and glared at the green eyed boy. "Already replaced Ginny, I see?"

Harry looked pained as he ignored the dig, instead focusing his attention on the head of the Weasley's. He knew everyone needed answers, himself included, so he suggested tea at the table. Mrs. Weasley set the kitchen to work while everyone settled themselves in the dining room.

"Hermione, were you terribly scared?" Mrs. Weasley questioned as she poured the last cup in front of herself. She took Hermione's hesitance as nothing more than an expected discomfort at reliving bad memories. Her husband, however, was more observant for once. A look in Hermione's eyes seemed to inform him that this conversation was to be far from simple.

Hermione cleared her throat and wrung her hands nervously, her eyes darting back and forth between Harry and George. "Um, well, you see, I wasn't _actually_ kidnapped."

"Oh?"

"I wasn't. I was distraught after the final battle, as was everyone, but I just fell apart. I left in the worst way, abandoning all of you, and I can never apologize enough for that. But I felt like I needed some of my own family after having stayed away for so long to keep them safe. But when I got there, I realized that I absolutely had to find my parents. It became an obsession, finding them. I spent months searching in Australia."

Mr. Weasley cut in. "Did you find them?"

Hermione beamed at the two boys across from her. "As a matter of fact, I found them in the very town George and Harry moved to. I ran into them while I was looking for them. And that's when I met Cassie, too." Cassie blushed at the knowing smile that Hermione sent her but felt her heart melt a bit. She felt like she had a sister in the girl already, and she had hardly known her more than a few days.

"Good for you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, her brown eyes twinkling. There was the beginning of disapproval blooming in them, too, however. "I just wish you would have told us that. All that time and not a word."

"I know, I know," Hermione muttered shamefully, averting her eyes. "It was awful of me. I told myself that it was okay to be a little selfish for once, but it became too easy to convince myself that it was alright. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I swore that once I found my parents, I was going to come back."

Mrs. Weasley nodded slowly, her flame colored locks swaying with her movement. "I do wish you would have done things a bit differently, but I suppose I could understand."

Ron, however, was watching her through narrowed eyes. "So, you definitely weren't kidnapped at any point?"

Hermione shook her head, her curls bouncing.

Frowning, Ron questioned, "Alright. But if you weren't kidnapped, then what's Malfoy's part in all this?"

Cassie had, unfortunately, taken a sip of tea at the exact moment Ron mentioned her family name. Her cheeks flamed red as she choked quite audibly on it. Six pairs of eyes fell on her as she beat her chest, coughing painfully. "Uh, sorry, wrong pipe," she rasped.

From the meaningful glances that Harry and George were shooting her and the impatient look on Ron's face, Hermione knew she had to come completely clean. She had known that it would be hard, admitting the truth about her relationship with Draco, especially to the Weasley clan. And while she hadn't expected him to be right at her side when she did, she still had never planned on him being in Azkaban for it.

"Draco offered to help me find my parents," she said simply. If only it were so simple. Then she wouldn't be in this mess.

"Come again?" he said in disbelief.

Hermione fiddled with a loose string on her sweater. "I told him I was going and he offered to come."

"I'm sorry, Mione, but when would Malfoy ever talk to _you_?"

"About three weeks after the final battle. He came looking for me," she admitted. She was praying that he would come to it on his own. She'd rather face Nagini again than have to say the words, "Draco Malfoy is my boyfriend." Not because she was ashamed, certainly not, she loved him dearly. But it didn't sound like enough to her. It didn't seem to properly represent how immensely important he was to her. And that was something she couldn't imagine Ron ever understanding.

While Ron collected his thoughts on why Draco Malfoy would seek out Hermione, he let his eyes wander. Though she was silent, her twiddling thumbs were rather loud compared to her otherwise tensed body, and their motion grabbed his attention. And there, on her right forefinger was an intricate silver ring with an emerald M covering its face. It was then that Ron understood.

"Tell me it isn't true," Ron said in a deadly quiet voice. His mother startled at his dark tone. A threatening storm had formed in his previously quite eyes, and his fist slammed onto the table. Hermione flinched as he shouted, "Tell me you're not dating Draco bloody Malfoy!"

His parents looked at Hermione in amazement, finally catching onto the source of Ron's sudden anger. They observed her like she was a stranger before them and it shattered her heart.

Holding her head up with a confidence that she had always let him steal from her, she refused. "I can't tell you that."

Ron jumped to his feet in a fit of rage. His face burned crimson as he demanded, "Then it's true?"

Hermione nodded solemnly.

"How could you, Hermione?" Ron spat furiously. "How could you ever chose that Death Eater scum over _me_?"

Before Hermione could lash back at him, something she was fully prepared to do, Cassie beat her to it. The girl who had otherwise been silent, shot to her feet shouting, "Don't you talk to Hermione that way! And don't you dare talk about my brother like that!"

An intense silence immediately seized the incensed occupants of the dining room. No one quite knew what to say to that bomb shell. Ron's mouth was flapping open and closed like a fish, his eyes wide as the moon. His parents held rather similar expressions.

"B-brother?" Ron eventually repeated. Cassie nodded firmly. "My name is Cassiopeia _Malfoy_. I'm Draco's younger sister. And I can tell you that he's in love with her and she's in love with him. And I swear to this Merlin guy that you're all so fond of _and_ his beard that I _will_ end you if you treat either of them with any disrespect!"

* * *

"That's a girl. I knew she was Malfoy," Draco chuckled fondly, though it pained him to think how disappointed in him she had been the last time he had seen her. He was practically beside himself when Hermione admitted that Cassie had returned with her.

"It's not a joke. We both know how serious this is," she stated rather obviously. "Draco, how are we going to explain this?"

"We aren't," he sighed. "I mean, how can we?"

Hermione stood up, walked around the table, and despite the guard's rules, she settled herself onto his lap. He looped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck, her strawberry scented shampoo lingering in her curls. It was bliss.

"Nothing has ever been quite normal between the two of us, Hermione," Draco reminded her. "It won't ever be easy. Given our current surroundings, I would think that's rather obvious."

"Nothing that is easy to obtain is worth having, Draco. Remember that," Hermione murmured, not quite able to reassure him that everything would be okay but nonetheless hopeful that she might offer some comfort, "And remember that I love you, so I will fight the whole bloody world on my own if it means getting you out of here."

"No," Draco argued, "Never on your own. We're in this together, you and me. You fight the whole world and I'll be right there with you."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Sosososososo sorry about taking so long to update! I'm trying to get this summer internship with the draft horse barn in my college, so I've been crazy stressed the past two weeks. I haven't edited this quite yet, so there may be some mistakes, but I just want to give you guys something. The next chapter will have what the rest of her week was like, the Ministry, the rest of the wizarding world's reaction up to getting a visit with Draco. Thanks so much for sticking with me! It's so great to hear encouragement from you guys :)**_


	23. Enemy Approval

**_A/N: I'M SOOOOOOO SORRY! I won't even make excuses, I just have too much on my plate (but in a good way now). But here it is! Another chapter! Don't hate me too much!_**

 _Chapter Twenty Three_  
 _Enemy Approval_

Hermione made her way silently to Ginny's room, the guilt overwhelming her. She was torn. On one hand, the fact that the Weasleys didn't hate her was wonderful. But on the other, they were two more people that Ron felt had turned against him. And while she knew he was prone to overreaction, a trait he had proven early on in their friendship, he had a good reason this time. The worst part was knowing that the main reason he was so upset was that he still harbored some stubbornly held belief that they were meant for one another. That ship had sailed long ago, but unfortunately, Ron was still waiting on the docks.

She poked her head back out of the room when she heard the floorboards in the hallway creak thinking it might be Cassie finding her way to the room. The figure she caught sight of was much sadder.

George stood facing the closed door of his childhood room. His shoulders were tensed, his hands clenched into fists, his back to Hermione. She tiptoed up to him and slipped her arms around his slim waist. He sank into her embrace, the tension in his body melting immediately melting. He placed a shaky hand on hers and let loose a heavy sigh.

"I have to go in," he croaked in a whisper.

Hermione shook her head against his back and matched his soft tone. "No, you don't, Georgie."

"But…I want to," he finally said after a moment of silence. "I think it might help. I have to stop running from things."

The bushy haired witch released the older wizard and he turned to face her. She smiled up at him pensively. "That's something we have in common, I'm afraid."

"I figured that if you could do it, I could do it," George admitted slowly. Hermione's curious expression beckoned him to elaborate. "You came back, didn't you?"

All he received was a noncommittal shrug. Hermione couldn't quite agree. "I only came back to face things because I had no choice. That's not very courageous, I don't think."

George's lips curled upwards and he shook his head at her. "Maybe so, but you've come back up in arms against the bloody Ministry and the rest of the wizarding world. If you can do that, then I can face this room."

"Oh, George," Hermione sighed, her cheeks darkening in the shadowy hallway. "You all think I'm such a hero. I'm not that special. I'm just doing what needs to be done."

"Think what you want, Hermione, but whether you mean to be or not, you're rather an inspiration. So, for that, I thank you. Please accept that, at least," the older wizard insisted. When she didn't argue, he smiled satisfactorily. While she may not have disagreed, she still wasn't quite pleased. "I just wish we could have come back in better circumstances, you know? It was going to be a big deal regardless. Now with Draco facing Azkaban…there's not a chance we'll have a normal life. Not for years."

The ginger could sympathize with her on that one. He knew that a life without Fred would never be a normal life, just acceptable if not slightly better than average. Hermione without Draco would be facing a similarly dimmed life. "But we'll get through it together, right?"

"Right," she agreed solidly. With a large yawn, she bid the prankster a good night. She shuffled down the hall, leaving George to ponder his door once again. He called out after her as she stepped into Ginny's room.

"Hermione?" She turned back to him. "You're not alone. Just remember that."

She smiled back sleepily at the boy. "You're not either, Georgie."

With a deep breath, George tentatively pushed the door open and stepped inside.

* * *

Harry entered the Ministry of Magic with no small amount of trepidation. Flanked by two Weasleys, the bustling crowd cleared a path for the Boy-Who-Lived. Though his mind was screaming at him to run, his horrible memories of the building haunting him with no mercy, Harry put on a brave face and strode toward the lift like he owned the place.

The secretary to the Minister of Magic was overwhelmingly flustered by the appearance of the savior of the wizarding world. Despite her insistence that he make an appointment and return another day, Harry made for the door. He wasn't about to let an inexperienced receptionist stop him from making sure there was still a sense of justice to be found in the Ministry.

If Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt was surprised to see Harry Potter burst through his door followed immediately by George and Arthur Weasley, he did not show it.

"Ah, Harry! How good to see you! Arthur, George," he greeted cordially. His welcoming smile fell as he took in their determined expressions. "Not just a friendly visit, I suppose."

"Not quite," Harry agreed reluctantly. He cursed himself for his inability to leave well enough alone as he said, "Draco Malfoy."

"Oh?" Kingsley nodded once and gestured for them to take a seat. The two Weasleys settled into chairs, but Harry was too agitated to sit. "What are you going to do with him?"

Kingsley frowned at Harry's inquiry. "What interest have you in the Malfoy boy? I assure you Miss Granger will receive her justice in due time."

Harry let out a heavy sigh as he shook his head. "That's just it, though. She doesn't want justice. Not from that."

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand," Kingsley admitted, leaning back into his leather chair. "Doesn't she want that monster put away?"

"He is not a monster!" a feminine voice screeched. Harry hid his face in his hands as Hermione threw his Invisibility Cloak off. Kingsley jumped in fright at her unexpected appearance. George hopped to his feet and restrained the cursing witch with a hand clamped over her mouth.

Harry got over his embarrassment enough to scold her. "Did I or did I not tell you to stay under the cloak?" She glared daggers at him. "We agreed that you bursting in and demanding he get set free was a bad idea! You promised you'd keep quiet if I let you come with the cloak!"

"What is the meaning of this?" Kingsley demanded. His raised voice encouraged the silence of the young adults while Mr. Weasley shared a commiserating look. He wasn't mad, thankfully, just terribly confused. "Hermione? Shouldn't you be recovering somewhere?"

George had loosened his grip just enough for Hermione to slip away from him. It was partly unintentional and partly because the prankster in him wanted to see what kind of chaos she could conjure up. With the indignation in her voice barely controlled, she disagreed. "No, as a matter of fact, I should not be. I have nothing to recover from other than a gross display of injustice."

"Hermione, as I said to Harry, we will ensure that Malfoy gets what he deserves."

"And what you think he deserves and what I think he deserves is a wildly different thing, Minister," Hermione stated firmly. Kingsley felt like he was missing an important piece of a puzzle he couldn't quite see. "Draco Malfoy did not kidnap me. In fact, he saved me. Several times. And while I can't quite explain why, you have to release him!"

Kingsley Shacklebolt didn't have to be the Minister of Magic to recognize the significance of the plea. A Muggleborn would not be demanding the freedom of a known Death Eater without a damn good reason. He instantly felt a dreadful headache take hold of him, knowing this was not going to be a simple conversation.

"Okay. So he didn't kidnap you. But I'm afraid that wasn't his only charge, Hermione. I may be the Minister, but that doesn't mean I can wave my wand and pardon who I please."

"But you have to! He'll never make it through the trial!" Hermione cried desperately. Harry and George hated to see their friend so torn apart. Neither were willing to admit out loud that it was a lost cause, but they were all too aware that it just might be the case. But as long as Hermione refused to give in, they would do all they could.

"I'm sorry that the choices Mr. Malfoy has made in his life have lead him to a fate in Azkaban, but it's not your fault."

"But it is! We never would have been in this mess if it weren't for me!"

At this point, Harry decided it was time to cut in again. "Kingsley, if I may?" He was encouraged to continue. "Sir, Malfoy is not what you think. You can't put him on trial if he can't tell the truth."

"Excuse me?"

"He and Hermione took an Unbreakable Vow. They can't talk about his part in the war without dying. You can't put him on trial," Harry explained seriously, his voice grave.

Hermione fell into a heap in George arms when Kingsley apologized. "Well, I'm sorry then. But his trial is on the 15th. And if you can't find someone who can speak on his behalf, then I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting I must be off to."

He paused after pulling open his door. Kingsley turned back toward the stricken girl, his heart going out for the feisty young witch, though he couldn't fathom the reasons for her argument. "I want to help you, Hermione. I do. But I've hardly had this position for a year and the ministry has been in chaos, just finally coming together. I cannot jeopardize that for one person. Especially for such a public case. People aren't going to want to free someone they see the way they see the Malfoy family."

"Even when it's the right thing to do?"

"Hermione," a voice said in warning. She turned defiantly toward Mr. Weasley. He avoided her pleading face, knowing her despair would ultimately undo him. "The Minister is right, I'm afraid. If you're going to go through with this-saving the young Mr. Malfoy-then you're going to have to go it on your own."

Harry wasn't having that. "No. She won't be alone. She'll have us. We stopped Voldemort and his Death Eaters without the help of the Ministry. Who days we can't _free_ a Death Eater without them, too?"

Hermione was once again overwhelmed with affection for her dear friends. She couldn't believe their dedication to her. In typical Hermione fashion, however, as she threw her arms around him, she corrected, " _Not_ a Death Eater."

* * *

"So, we're doomed, then?" Draco sighed expectedly. His heart seized up at the thought of spending years in Azkaban. One week had nearly undone him. Hermione attempted to disagree but instead pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'm never giving up."

* * *

"Surely there's someone out there that could speak on his behalf, Hermione. And yours for that matter," Mr. Weasley insisted, "You clearly had a larger part in the war than we thought."

Hermione tried to hide her darkened cheeks and humbly mumbled, "Not really. It was only that we had enough of a connection that it was worried it might be compromised."

"We'll find something," he continued reassuringly. Hermione shook her head. "Mr. Weasley, I can't ask that of you. The Malfoy/Weasley feud is so strong. It's wrong of me to try to force you to help him."

Mrs. Weasley looked like she agreed, her face pulled into a disapproving frown that only deepened as her husband smiled warmly, "Oh, Hermione. You aren't forcing us to do anything. I'm helping you because you're like family. If you have faith in the boy, then I trust it's worth having."

"Arthur," Mrs. Weasley tried to interrupt. "We have a lot to consider with this. It's one thing to accept them, but another thing entirely to put our name on the line for him."

At that, the wizard let out a barking laugh. "The Weasley name that is synonymous with poverty, pranks, and Muggle-loving? Yes, there's a lot on the line."

His wife's face burned a famous Weasley red and Hermione had to stifle a giggle. Her love for the family only grew stronger. She gushed her thanks before escaping the room. Mrs. Weasley was sure to burst, and she had no interest in being a witness.

She found Cassie perched on the top of the stairs, looking more than a little out of place. Despite having been raised on an entirely different continent, she still held herself in such a way that there was no denying her true heritage. Her stormy grey eyes and platinum blond hair were a dead giveaway, especially when paired with her impeccable posture that seemed effortless. Thankfully, though, she hadn't inherited Draco's ability to shield any and all emotions. Cassiopeia was an open book.

"Hey, there. Where's Harry?" Hermione greeted. Cassie shrugged her shoulders. "He said he thought of something that might help Drake's case and took off."

"Oh. Well, in that case, are you up for some lunch? I'm dying for something sweet."

Draco's sister was immensely grateful. She would much prefer to ignore the strangeness that her life had become in the previous few days. Hermione, despite being completely overwhelmed could still manage to look completely together. It wasn't lost on either of them how Malfoy-like such a skill was.

* * *

"How was the Weasel after you told him? Did he calm down eventually?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked away. Draco spluttered as he got a mouthful of hair but refused to complain. He was too happy to see her to care that her chocolate mane was invading his personal space. Her silence made him nervous. "What did he do now?"

Draco was all too aware of the shenanigans that Ron Weasley got up to, especially when it came to Hermione. For someone who thought he had some caveman claim staked over her, the git had a true talent for destroying her self-esteem rather than building it up. He had comforted Hermione too many times in the wake of something that awful ginger did that he wanted nothing more than to push him off the very Astronomy Tower that haunted his dreams. Hermione had been the owner of his heart since he was fifteen and it always killed him to see her so distraught over the Weasley who treated her terribly.

"You haven't answered me."

Hermione sighed. "Well, he's civil enough, I suppose," she said, running her fingers absently through his hair. He leaned into her comforting touch, content to hear her voice even if she was talking about a weasel. "He won't talk to me, and he just glares at me when we cross paths. I hear him complain to Molly an awful lot. He could be worse. Honestly, it's Harry who's at a bit of a loss. Their friendship was never quite the same after Ron left us on the run. And Ron is giving him the cold shoulder about supporting me and being with someone other than Ginny."

She had nearly forgotten that the someone other than Ginny was, in fact, Draco's recently found sister until he tensed at her words. Draco cut her off before she could try to reword her thought. "As much as Potter irritates me, I can't say I disapprove."

Hermione pulled away from him enough to get a good look at him. He tried to pretend he didn't know exactly why she was looking at him so incredulously. "What?" he shrugged grumpily, "Potter aggravates me because he cares too much about everyone and has this ridiculous urge to protect them all. I won't have to worry about him hurting her because he's too bloody kind to ever treat her badly."

Despite his indifferent if not disgusted tone, Draco's pale cheeks were a rosy pink. It relieved Hermione to see some color in his gaunt face. "Draco Malfoy," she teased lovingly, "You approve of the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die dating your sister?"

"Shhh," he whispered, reaching up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. She grinned wide as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips. "Let's keep that between you and me."

* * *

The next worst thing to happen, as if there wasn't already enough, was the Daily Prophet clattering to the Wesley's dining room table as Errol collapsed onto the floor. Hermione snatched up the dreadful paper with apprehension. She had seen the articles and headlines that Skeeter had made in her absence, and the knowledge of them had her expecting the worst. And of course, Rita Sweeter did not disappoint.

 _ **Narcissa Malfoy Rages Against Ministry For Release Of Son**_

 _Lady Malfoy, neé Black, stormed into the Ministry of Magic this Tuesday night demanding for her son, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, to be released. The boy, charged with_ _being a known and active Death Eater, fleeing the country, use of Unforgivables, supplying the Death Eaters entrance to Hogwarts, the murder of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and the kidnapping of Hermione Granger_ _, awaits his trial in Azkaban. Lady Malfoy insists that such actions by the Ministry are an outrageous display of injustice. When denied release, the only Malfoy not in the clutches of Azkaban demanded a visit to her heir. As the wizarding law of Great Britain stands, a prisoner may not be granted visitors until proven guilty and sentenced. It seems that once again, the Malloy family believes itself to be above the law. Continued on p5…_

George had to restrain Hermione from hunting Rita Sweeter down and flaying her alive. "What a vile woman! Is nothing private anymore? As if no one else has ever tried to visit their family while in Azkaban! He's all she has left, of course she wants to see him. _I_ want to bloody see him!"

"Why anyone would waste their time on the likes of that ferret remains a mystery to me," Ron muttered under his breath as he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. He had been cold toward Hermione since her return, his only acknowledgement of her putting Draco down at every opportunity. She sighed sadly and shook it off.

George felt for his brother, he truly did. But he couldn't believe how foul a friend he was being. Ron had never seen them together, but he had. And he had clearly seen how entirely they completed each other. If only his brother could move on from the lingering feelings he had for the intelligent witch. His late blooming feelings for Hermione were just that. Too late. Draco Malfoy had her heart long before Ron ever realized she had one worth taking. George thought him childish to have believed she'd simply wait around for him.

A new voice in the room pulled the three out of their glaring contest.

"That's-that's my mother."

Hermione looked over to find Cassie staring at the front page of the Daily Prophet with wide, innocent eyes. Her pale, slender fingers were hovering above the picture that accompanied the article. Narcissa Malfoy stormed from the Ministry in a flurry of finely tailored robes of silver that accented the tempestuous grey eyes riddled with anger and worry. Her platinum blonde hair, usually pulled into an immaculate up do, hung freely, swept up in a slight breeze. She was a picture of vengeance. Between his mother and Hermione Granger, Draco couldn't have found stronger women to support him.

The awed wonder in Cassie's face was beautiful enough to even humble Ron for a brief moment. His reddened face lightened to a rosy pink and his scowl softened into a simple frown. "You look like her," he said simply, his voice absent of the disdain he had been giving Hermione.

"She's here," Cassie whispered to herself. "I mean, I suppose I must have known that she would be here. But I was so caught up in everything else that I didn't think about what that meant."

"Do you want to meet her?" Hermione wondered. She certainly didn't. Not much frightened Hermione Granger, but Draco's family struck a fear in her from the beginning. Being tortured by his aunt certainly hadn't helped that any. Unfortunately, the ways things were going, she was going to have to set her fears aside if she wanted any chance of seeing him.

Cassie didn't respond immediately. She stared at the picture a moment or two longer before shaking her head. "No. I-I don't think so. She gave me up once. I don't need that again. Maybe she saved my life, and it turned out to be a good one, but I don't know that I could face her."

Hermione wrapped the girl up in a tight hug. It was then that Harry waltzed into the room. His boyish grin fell when he saw Cassie so upset. He smoothly stole her from Hermione and led her out the back yard.

"Am I crazy for not wanting to meet her?" she questioned after she explained the picture to Harry. He ran his finger through her hair and lifted her face to his. "Of course not. It's a complicated past you've got, and no one's going to rush you back to it."

Cassie locked her arms around his waist and scooted close to him. She was a snuggly person, as he had discovered quite quickly. He wasn't about to complain. "I just wish Drake knew I'm not really mad at him."

"Cassie," Harry sighed heavily, "I'm sure he cares what you think. But right now, I imagine he's got a lot more to worry about. So let's not get stressed about. You should have some fun while you're here."

"And what's fun to do here, Harry Potter?" Cassie wondered with a sweet smile. It fell into an apprehensive frown as he caught sight of something that made him grin devilishly. "How would you fancy a romantic evening fly?"

"A romantic evening _what_?" she echoed as she watched him snatch up a broom. He ignored her frantically shaking head, grabbed her hand, and dragged them outside. And while she thought he was absolutely mad, she couldn't help but fall for him just a little bit more. There was such an innocent joy about him as he gushed about flying. She was catching glimpses of the man he just might become without the pain of his past to hold him back.

She liked what she saw in those glimpses.

* * *

"So," Draco dragged out when Hermione fell silent again. "How exactly did you get to visit me? Not that I'm complaining, I'm just curious. I mean, with it not quite being legal and all."

Hermione decided it was finally time to remove herself from his lap. He audibly complained about losing such contact with her, panic welling in his heart at the thought of her leaving. She grabbed his hand in response, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Draco couldn't fathom why she suddenly seemed so nervous.

"Um, about that…" Hermione began. Her explanation didn't get terribly far before someone new entered the room. "Are you two quite finished? I've been waiting out there for far too long. This cold, damp air is terrible for my complexion, you know?"

Draco gasped. "Mother?"

* * *

 _ **A/N: Please, please, please let me know what you think! I've missed all of you and your reviews so much!**_


	24. Two Days More

_Chapter Twenty Four_  
 _Two Days More_

There were very few time in their relationship that Hermione remembered Draco's face revealing absolutely everything he was feeling. Even though he had changed drastically since she had first met him, he still wasn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Apparently, seeing his regal mother step daintily into his dirty cell was enough to make him completely forget to hold up his indifferent mask.

Shock. Relief. Delight. Confusion. Concern.

They each flashed across his face so vividly and so rapidly that Hermione couldn't be bothered to name them all. He suddenly seemed so terribly young as he looked up at his mother. She knew of their somewhat distant relationship. It was a typical one between mother and son for their pureblood station. They loved each other dearly but only showed it through barely there gestures and looks. Though it appeared faint, there was no denying the strength of their love. They had both risked their very lives to save the other.

Hermione made to back out of the room unnoticed, not wanting to leave him but knowing they most likely wanted time alone. Before she got more than a step away from him, Draco blindly reached out a hand and twined his fingers through hers, effectively keeping her in place. Hermione's heart swelled at the action. He hadn't taken his eyes off his mother, but he was so intensely aware of her that he still knew where she was.

"Draco," Narcissa sighed dramatically, "Just look at the state of you!"

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. Quietly, he greeted, "It's awfully good to see you, too, Mother."

The thin blonde woman let out a tiny cry and launched herself at him. Draco embraced his mother in a somewhat awkward hug. He rose to his feet so she didn't have to crouch down. Try as he might, Draco couldn't remember the last time she had hugged him so enthusiastically. It was more of a Hermione hug than the stiff, brief embrace he was used to from her. He clung to her, breathing in her flowery perfume, satisfied to have his two favorite women present.

"What in Salazar's name are you doing here?" he demanded as he pulled away from her. She smoothed out her silver robes, ignoring his question until she was once again the image of elegance. "I wanted to see my son. If that's a crime, then they can find a cell for me, too."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at that. Narcissa Malfoy was not quite what she had expected. She still didn't know what to make of her, but she was certainly not scared of her any longer.

"Mother," Draco admonished. Then, the situation seemed to really sink in for him. His head whipped from his mother to the girl stood behind him now. His gaze flipped back from Hermione to his mother a few times until he nervously cleared his throat. "Um, Mother, this is-"

Narcissa shook her head and tsked. "I know exactly who she is, Draco, dear," she finished disinterestedly. His silver eyes widened and he gulped. Before he could explain, she winked, much to his utter disbelief. "You're not as clever as you think you are, dear. I've known about your feelings for Miss Granger here since before you figured it out yourself I would imagine."

Hermione kissed his cheek sweetly as he spluttered. "But-but-I didn't-and you-but-we-"

"She's quite the witch, I must say," Narcissa said kindly, with a tentative smile at Hermione. "And while I completely approve of the formidable Miss Granger, I also must say I am very disappointed in the fact that you thought to keep her from me. What were you thinking, running off to Australia?"

Draco had finally calmed down enough to form a complete sentence. Sheepishly, he admitted, "I waited for so long, fought it for so long. When I finally had the chance to be with her, I didn't want to risk ruining it. I thought you might try to keep me from her. And I couldn't have lived with that. I'm sorry, Mother."

Narcissa's disapproving expression softened considerably. A twinge of regret leaked through her stoic eyes. In a voice thick with emotion, she apologized, "No. I'm sorry that you ever had to worry about being with her. I could tell you loved her, even when you tried to tell yourself shouldn't. But I never wanted to encourage you because I knew the danger it would bring. But that danger is gone. All I want for you, Draco, is complete and utter happiness. I want you to continue your life with your own happiness _and_ the happiness that I never had. And if that means a life with Hermione Granger, then I shall be proud of the man you have grown into."

It was Draco that attacked her with a fierce hug this time.

Hermione brushed stray tears from the corners of her eyes. Despite how happy the reunion was, there was still a thought niggling at the back of their minds. If Narcissa was free of Lucius now, happily accepting that Draco was in love with a muggleborn, what did that mean about Cassie? Would she want to see her? Reconnect? Or was that too far gone to return from?

She had felt so guilty when she sought Draco's mother out. It was undeniable that she would have to meet with the Malfoy matriarch if either of them wanted to visit Draco in Azkaban. But she had become so close to Cassie that she felt awful that it was easy for stranger to access the mother she hadn't seen in over a decade. She knew Draco's sister was conflicted about her mother. She had saved her from death, but it was hard not to feel abandoned.

So, as Hermione had found herself waiting at the imposing wrought iron gates of Malfoy Manor, she felt terribly conflicted. In the end, she knew that all of them wanted Draco free, so she figured the end would justify the means.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy, once used to daily visitors and party goers, nearly jumped out of her own skin when the wards at the front gate sounded. For a terrifying moment, she imagined it an incoming group of Death Eater's returning from a raid. She took a moment to compose herself before she sent a house elf out to fetch whoever was calling.

She nearly lost her careful composure when a slightly petrified Hermione Granger popped into existence into the front parlor. The two women simply stared at each other in a tense silence for a moment or so before Narcissa broke it by offering her a cup of tea.

Narcissa had barely taken a seat before Hermione couldn't contain it any longer. "IwanttoseeDracotoo," she blurted out in an unintelligible string of words. The pale blonde woman that resembled Draco so closely raised an inquiring eyebrow. Hermione took a deep breath to calm her nerves, terrified to be meeting Draco's mother without him by her side. "I want to see Draco, too. I read the Daily Prophet article. I have an idea."

At her announcement, all awkwardness ceased, and the two witches, so unlike yet so focused with the same goal, set to work. They schemed and plotted and before they knew it, Hermione was stepping into Draco's cell, seeing him for the first time in a week.

"So, out of curiosity," Draco began, settling back to gaze at Hermione and his mother, "Just how many people did you have to bribe or blackmail to get in?"

He squirmed nervously at the conspiratory smirk the two of them shared. He had been so afraid that his mother would disapprove of Hermione that he had never imagined that they might get along a little too well. He hadn't thought out how that particular scenario would end for him. Alone, they were both a force to be reckoned with. Together? Merlin, the world better watch out.

"As it turns out, being a war heroine and the Malfoy who saved Harry Potter proved to be rather beneficial in our case," Hermione beamed innocently. But Draco was no fool. She was not the goody-two-shoes everyone had her pegged for. And if she had worked with his mother? The Ministry wouldn't know what hit it.

* * *

Harry let out an aggravated groan when a gentle knock sounded on his door. He had gotten so little sleep the past few nights and all the boy wanted was to be left alone. Alone time in the Burrow, however, was nearly nonexistent. Choosing to ignore whoever might be on the other side of the door, he rolled onto his side and buried his face in his pillow. Unfortunately, the knocking picked back up again.

"I'm trying to sleep!" he called out irritably, for once not caring about being nice. The voice that apologized had him scrambling out of bed frantically. He whipped the door open to meet Cassie's retreating form. "Cassie!"

She spun on her heel, her eyes lighting up when she met his gaze. "Harry," she said pleasantly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You can bother me anytime," Harry rushed, not at all regretting sounding totally whipped. "What did you need?"

"You," she said quite simply.

The Boy-Who-Lived couldn't stop the heated red blush that rose to his cheeks. The beautiful blonde grinned happily at him, waiting for a response. Eventually, he choked out an unintelligent, "O-oh?"

"I'm just missing home, you know. And well," she admitted, suddenly looking as shy as him, "When I'm around you…I feel like I'm there."

A rush of pure, unadulterated joy overwhelmed the teen boy. When he didn't react, Cassie started to regret how honest she had been with him. It didn't make her words any less true, though. She always thought that the saying, 'Wherever you are is home to me', was outrageously cheesy. And she still did. But when she was around the raven haired boy, she felt that same sense of comfort and belonging as she did when she was sitting on the counter of her parents' shop overlooking the vast ocean. Perhaps Harry was her home away from home. But judging by his blank stare, he must not think the same.

She was wrong, however. Harry was simply just shocked that he meant that much to her. It always seemed to surprise him when a girl showed some interest in him. And with a girl like Cassie, he had to keep pinching himself to convince him that it wasn't just a glorious dream.

Right as Cassie opened her mouth to make a joke of it, Harry reached forward and cupped her face in his hands. His emerald eyes gazed into hers so intensely, she nearly melted right then and there. She sucked in a gasp of air when he captured her lips in a slow, lingering kiss that simply sang his adoration for her. Harry's hands left her face as he slid his arms around her waist. She was too deliriously happy to be embarrassed that his kiss had her so weak in the knees that he was practically holding her up.

It was during that tender moment that George stepped into the hall. The kissing couple outside Harry's door had him skidding to a halt. A brief smile stretched across his face as he witnessed the loving innocence between the two people he had grown so close to. He was nothing but proud of Harry. For not letting his horrible life get in the way of his happiness and for catching such a wonderful bird. He knew the boy would take amazing care of Cassie.

But as pleased as he was for Harry, George had an incredible girl of his own. One that he was missing something dreadful. He wasn't afraid to admit that he had fallen head over heels for Becs. The surfer girl had put his heart back together and patch the broken pieces up with bits of her own.

But now that he was back in his old life, with the thrill of the store slowly returning to him, the rowdy family dinners, the wonderful magical people, he couldn't help but feel torn. Becs, beautiful, hilarious Becs, was a Muggle. And while the Weasley's weren't a prejudiced family, that still didn't mean it would be easy. He'd have to be fully committed to the relationship before he could even begin to think of telling her the truth. And then actually telling the truth would be an entirely different matter.

The scary part for him wasn't being fully committed to her. Truthfully, George Weasley was not one to treat love whimsically. The way he felt about her…he knew. He knew that the problem wasn't that. The real problem would be how he could possibly move on from her if she couldn't accept the truth.

In all their years of pranking and sneaking around, Fred and George never actually lied about anything. They were very skilled in half-truths or creating fool proof plans that could be easily explained in a way that kept them in the clear without lying about things. Plus, they were never ashamed of the antics they got up to, so they usually came clean rather proudly.

For the first time in his life, George was afraid to tell the truth.

* * *

"Are you upset with me?" Hermione wondered, breaking the silence that greeted her when she stepped inside the Burrow. The first thing she caught sight of was platinum blonde hair, and she couldn't help but blurt out an apology.

Cassie craned her head around to find Hermione staring at her, worry and guilt painting a miserable expression on her face. Before she could respond, Hermione heard a grumbling voice come from behind the couch. She approached Cassie's comfortable spot on the large loveseat and looked over in confusion. A warm smile lit up her worried face as she found Harry fast asleep, his head in Cassie's lap. The girl's silver rings gleamed brightly against Harry's midnight black hair as she ran her fingers through it. The grumbling picked back up whenever she stopped.

"He hasn't been sleeping very well, so I finally got him to take a nap," Cassie explained with a shrug. Despite her nonchalant tone, Hermione knew that it was an accomplishment. George had told her all about Harry's general wariness of sleeping since the war. She had experienced it herself. She had also worn the very same lovesick expression on her face that Cassie was sporting as she glanced down at the sleeping boy.

Hermione rested a grateful hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "He approves, you know," she informed her. Cassie's pale eyebrows shot upwards. "I'll tell you all about it," Hermione promised, "But first, I want to apologize."

Cassie titled her head as a gesture for her to further explain. Hermione wrung her hands nervously and settled onto the coffee table across from the couple. "Your mother," she elaborated, "I'm sorry to involve her. I know how you feel about her, and I would hate to hurt you."

"Wow," was all Cassie offered in response.

"Wow?" Hermione echoed.

Cassie shook her head in wonder. "You just had to go and face the lady of Malfoy Manor alone as the Muggleborn girlfriend of her only heir and what worries you is that I might be upset about you seeing the mother that left me when I was six?"

"Told you," Harry mumbled sleepily, snuggling closer to her.

Hermione frowned, taking in their words. "Told you what?"

Eyes still closed, Harry sighed and explained, "Told her that you would come in begging for forgiveness. Thought I was crazy."

Cassie shrugged, admitting it was true. Then, she said, "There's nothing to apologize for. You wanted to see my brother and did what you had to in order to make that happen. Just because I don't know how I feel about her doesn't mean you need to worry about how I feel about you working with her."

"That's such a relief," Hermione breathed in relief. "Though you have no idea how hard it was to tell Draco you were doing okay while she was in the room. I'm fairly certain she thinks we're both a little touched in the head now."

Cassie bit her bottom lip, afraid to ask the question she wanted the answer to. Hermione was already ahead of her. "He looks rough, I won't lie," Hermione admitted sadly. At that, Harry finally cracked an eye open. It was enough for her to see the concern for her in their forest green depths. "But he's still himself. He tried not to act like he was scared, but I saw right through it and he knows it."

"Does he know when the trial is scheduled for?" Harry questioned. He didn't like the way Hermione seemed to shrink into herself. "Hermione?"

"It's the 17th."

Cassie and Harry shared a horrified look.

"I know," Hermione said in a shaky breath, "We only have two days more."

* * *

Later that evening, the night had taken a turn for the worse. Ron and Harry had broken into a screaming match over Hermione having visited Draco in Azkaban and his upcoming trial. Luckily for them, the witch was back at the Burrow. She had decided to tag along with Harry, George, and Ron on their venture into Muggle London for dinner. She watched them exchange barbs before a chirping ring caught her attention. George was attempting to calm the pair.

"Um, George?" Cassie whispered, cutting the tension between Ron and Harry quite effectively. Three heads whipped in her direction, their fierce glares making her shrink back. "It's for you."

The usually intelligent boy stared at her blankly, momentarily forgetting about his brother's idiotic antics. "What's for me?"

She offered something to him in her outstretched hand. George eyed the strange device warily and took it gingerly from her grasp. Cassie brought her hand to her ear, beckoning George to do the same. "Talk," she demanded seriously. Debating the sanity of Harry's pretty little friend, the apprehensive boy held the thing to his ear and said, "Uh, hullo?"

"George Gideon Weasley, where the hell have you been?" an all too familiar voice screeched. George jumped clear to the sky, the terrifying voice box thing clattering to the ground. Overcoming his shock, George scrambled to pick it up. No matter how furious that voice sounded, it soothed his very soul. With it, he could feel the sand between his toes, the waves swell below him, the sun on his face.

"Becs? Oh, Becs, I miss you, love!" George gushed, over the moon to hear from her. It had hardly been a week but he had missed her more than he'd like to admit. It scared him to get so attached someone new, but he would never regret letting that girl into his life.

Unfortunately, Becs wasn't quite so pleased. "Miss me? You miss me! You took off without a word my way for days and then I find out you went back to bloody England and _you miss me_?!"

The unforgiving frigid English air suddenly seemed very warm to the prankster as a fierce blush rose to his cheeks. Ron looked to Harry and Cassie in confusion only to have them wince and shake their heads. George was on his own.

"About that. Look, it was real sudden. A friend was in trouble and I had to help," he tried to explain. She wasn't having it. "Too sudden to say goodbye? George, you practically moved in with me, and then you disappeared without a word! I think I at least deserved a goodbye."

Guilt swarmed him yet again. He had been so eager to help Hermione, he hadn't thought about the consequences. Which, realistically, was kind of his main character trait. "Becs, you know how impulsive I can be. I do things without thinking. And I feel terrible that I left without telling you. But the things that happened…they're bad. And quite honestly, I don't know that they're going to get better."

Thousands of miles away through a static riddled line, and Becs could hear the defeated tone in his voice. She hadn't heard that tone since she had first met him. If she hadn't been worried before, she certainly was now. Leave it to that goofy ginger to completely distract her from her anger in 5 seconds flat.

"Red? You okay?" she wondered quietly. George had turned away from the trio that was actively pretending not to eavesdrop. In a low voice, he sighed, "I just really miss you. I wish I had a way to talk to you before."

"I know," Becs agreed, frowning as she realized something rather odd. "Hey. How is it that I don't even have your phone number? I mean, we practically spend all our time together, so I guess it wasn't really necessary. Guess I never noticed. At least Cassie had hers on for once."

"Phone?" George echoed, testing the unfamiliar word out. Her giggle on the other end raised the corner of his lips into a smile.

"Yeah, you goof. I never needed your number because you always seemed to be there when I needed you to be," she reasoned. George held the phone away from his face for a second to examine it. He shrugged and returned it to his ear. The inventor in him was utterly fascinated by it, but not as much as he was by Becs. "Until now, that is."

George's cheeks blushed red in shame. "I'm so sorry, Becs. I wish I could have handled it differently. I wish you were here, actually," he admitted, despite knowing her presence would only complicated their lives so much more. "I could use a good wave or two with you."

There was a snort from her end. "Is that all you could use from me?" she wondered suggestively.

"Merlin, you're amazing," he breathed, his cheeks darkening for an entirely different reason.

"Ah, George?" Harry interrupted, "The trial?"

"Trial?" Becs repeated, "You're in England for a trial? For who? And what? Red, are you _sure_ you're okay?"

The weight of the world sunk down and settled on George Weasley's shoulders the way that the antique anchor on Bec's boat came to a rest on the sandy ocean floor. "Becs, don't you worry. I'll be grand," he said weakly. "Everything will be grand."

For the second time in his life, George Weasley was afraid to tell the truth.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Poor George, he just wants his girly friend with him! Anyway, this is the longest chapter by far, I think, so yay! More reading for all you people and more time that I should have used to study for my Anatomy test, woooo! :D I am so sleep deprived and so overwhelmingly behind that I just said, "Screw it. I'm gonna write!"_**

 ** _Your reviews let me know that it was worth it! They mean so much, please keep writing them!_**

 ** _Wow. That's a lot of exclamation points. Sorry haha_**


	25. Bated Breath

_Chapter Twenty Five_  
 _Bated Breath_

Hermione wasn't terribly familiar with the Muggle court system, despite having grown up in the Muggle world. Even with such a lack of knowledge on that particular subject, she knew that it certainly had to be superior to that of the wizarding world. For at least the little she knew of the Muggle court system showed that there was some chance of success. From the scene she was witnessing, Hermione felt as though they had lost before they had begun.

Draco's trial was one of great magnitude and one of great interest to the wizarding world. As such, what should have been a moderate sized audience was bordering on the ridiculous. It was a plea for a boy's life, not a rock concert, after all. Another thing that struck Hermione as inferior to the Muggle world was that there wasn't a shred of dignity to be found in the circular room.

No matter the outcome of his trial, they had already succeeded in immortalizing Draco as a gaunt, petrified boy, arms bound palm up by golden snakes, his Dark Mark beckoning for his condemnation.

The Draco she had come to love was not this boy. Not the evil coward they intended to incriminate him as. He was stronger than any of them knew, and only she had ever been allowed to witness him in such a right state. To have such an audience for his undoing rubbed her so terribly wrong that she found herself biting back tears before he had even taken his seat.

His silver eyes searched desperately for something, but hers were on his trembling hands. It would do no good to meet his eye. The wizard in charge of his defense had ordered her hidden, so as not to impede the trial. She had reluctantly agreed, only wanting the best chance of winning. But now, seeing how wretchedly lost he looked, she wished for nothing more than to be right there beside him whispering comforting words into his ear.

"Just breathe, Draco, just breathe," Hermione mumbled under her breath repeatedly. The anxious witch relaxed minutely when she felt an arm drape over her shoulders and pull her close. Harry's familiar scent engulfed her as she leaned into him.

She was immensely grateful to the boys on either side of her. George and Harry hadn't let her leave their sight since they left the Burrow at the crack of dawn. Cassie had bid them a tearful farewell, deeply upset that she wasn't able to join them. She only let Harry leave her side when he promised to send an owl the minute it was over. Hermione was regretful that the younger girl wasn't with her.

It would not have helped the Malfoy case to have the discarded member of the family show up out of the blue, especially since she was known to be dead. Even her own mother didn't know she was there. Narcissa was too nervous to go to the trial at first. She had already seen her husband convicted. Though, she admitted to Hermione that she was happy to be rid of him. Hermione was more than a little harsh on the regal woman. She wasn't the one facing Azkaban, Hermione had argued. The least she could have done was show her face to support him. And so, coerced by the feisty Muggleborn, Narcissa Malfoy was sat in a sea of red hair, looking out of place and out of her mind with worry.

Hermione tried to take a calming breath. In a shaky voice, she whispered, "Harry, I'm so nervous."

"Just breathe, Hermione, just breathe," he instructed in a know-it-all voice.

She smacked him irritably, but couldn't completely keep a small smile down.

* * *

"Draco Malfoy," a booming voice started, a dead silence falling over the boisterous crowd. "You are here today under scrutiny of the wizarding world due to your grievous acts of treachery against it. You are charged with being a known and active Death Eater, fleeing the country to evade arrest, use of Unforgiveables, supplying Death Eaters with an entrance into Hogwarts, the kidnapping of Hermione Jean Granger, and the murder of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

A few moments had to be taken in order to quell the maddened spectators and magistrates alike. Draco had never looked smaller. He had never felt more insignificant and worthless in his life, which is to say a lot as his life was not a particularly pleasant one.

With Hermione and himself the only living people who knew their true story, Draco knew there wasn't any hope of him winning. Though he had put on a brave face for Hermione the last time he saw her, he was nothing but a riotous mess on the inside. He did not want to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban. But as the only two living people who knew the truth, neither of them could tell it. Draco briefly wondered whether the realization of his fate would have been easier to accept had Hermione never stumbled across his path. If he had truly committed all those crimes, unchanged by the amazing witch, would he have cared? Surely it would have hurt less if he had actually committed the crimes he was being accused of.

Draco watched the trial with detached horror. The shock of the abysmal scene before him contrasted with the delirious happiness he had experience over the last year was mind boggling. He felt a spectator to his own life, for surely this was not truly _his_ life. Hadn't he agreed to do what he did to avoid this particular outcome?

Damn that man for making him take an Unbreakable Vow. Damn him for helping him gain a life only to leave him with no way to defend it.

He knew that he should have been paying attention. After all, it was his life at stake. But Draco only wanted to catch a glimpse of Hermione. He knew he wouldn't. She was too well disguised to be spotted, even by him. And though he agreed to it originally, he regretted it deeply. If he was to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban or receive, Merlin forbid, the Kiss, then he wanted to spend every last second of freedom gazing into Hermione's honey brown eyes.

His trial began with petty arguments and statements from former classmates that easily painted him as a bully. His representative quickly dismissed that nonsense as trivial and irrelevant to the charges presented. Though they were dropped, the negative depiction of him had certainly not earned him any friends among the Wizengamot.

Both he and Hermione dreaded the moment when he would have to admit that he could not, in fact, tell the truth. The minute he admitted to that, he knew he was a goner for sure. And sure enough, the moment their undivided attention was trained on him, Draco delivered the devastating blow to his case.

"And what have you to say of these charges, Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry was convinced that Hermione would break his hand if she held it any tighter.

"I-I'm afraid I have nothing, sir," Draco admitted weakly, the defeat in his voice evident.

Minister of Magic Kinglsey Shacklebolt grimaced. "Do you plead guilty then?"

"No," Draco managed to say somewhat confidently. Curious murmurs grew into a rush of speculation and bewilderment.

"I'm sorry. What is it you mean to plead?"

"Well," Draco sighed, his voice shaking, "While I can say I'm not guilty, I can't say I can explain everything."

Another member of the Wizengamot threw in her own demanding question. "Boy, what is the meaning of this? Why can't you just answer?"

A new voice entered the stream of questions. "May I speak?"

Excitement fell over the room as Harry Potter, the very boy who vanquished the Dark Lord stepped forward. Hermione's heart flutter as she watched Harry make his way down the stairs toward Draco.

"Mr. Potter, we are in the middle of a trial!" a woman cried in outrage, "You cannot waltz in just because-"

"Matilda, let the young man speak," Kinglsey insisted calmly but authoritatively. The irked witch scowled but silenced herself.

Harry took a deep breath before he launched into his speech. "Before I explain, I insist the murder charge be dropped. You were all there when I gave my account of what happened. You saw my memories, you saw Severus Snape's. Draco Malfoy did not kill Dumbledore and everyone in this courtroom knows that. You should be ashamed of yourselves for blaming him for it."

There was a disquieted stir among the room. He continued. "Also, the reason for Malfoy's inability to explain himself is rather inconvenient. I'm afraid that he and the only other person who know his true part in this war took an Unbreakable Vow to never speak of it in order to protect them both."

Before the din of the crowd got to unmanageable, Kingsley responded. "I find this terribly convenient, actually. You cannot expect us to be lenient because of this factor. We cannot merely take the word of a Death Eater, as I'm sure you understand," he said quite seriously. Both Harry and Draco nodded sadly. "What of your charges can you talk to us about, Mr. Malfoy, if there are anything at all?"

Draco cleared his throat, his mind reeling, his hands shaking, his heart pounding.

"I didn't kidnap Hermione Granger."

From the faces of the Wizengamot, it seemed as though that were not the charge they expected him to speak of.

"Then, Mr. Malfoy, how do you explain these pictures?" Matilda questioned. Magically displayed above her head for all to see were the pictures from Rita Skeeter's article that had originally claimed kidnapping. The one with Hermione slung over his shoulder. "Is this or is this not you and Miss Granger?"

"It is," Draco answered readily.

"If you didn't kidnap her, then how do you explain this photograph? Did you not kidnap Miss Granger and flee to Australia to avoid capture?"

Draco really wished he could see her face. He needed a little support. It killed him to out their love to the whole world this way.

"I did no such thing, Magistrate Tisday. And if the jury would like to see the memory of that day, then I am willing to share it," Draco offered willingly. Or at least he hoped he sounded willing. He was, in fact, very reluctant. He was a private person by nature and upbringing. And to share his intimate moments with what seemed like half the wizarding community of Britain was like stripping to his bare bones for all to see.

The harshly featured woman nodded once in agreement, resulting in an elderly wizard to make his way painfully slowly down to Draco. His nerves had his heart racing out of his chest as the wizard withdrew the memory Draco offered. With a whispered spell, the memory played out like a movie above his head. He couldn't even watch it fondly, reminiscing of a happier time. He felt raw and exposed and wishing the world would swallow him whole.

* * *

 _"Come on, Hermione, we have to go!" Draco insisted, tugging her along. The reluctant witched dragged her feet after him. Her sour expression didn't suit the lovely weather of the day. Draco, for once, seemed to be the bubbly one._

 _"No, we don't," Hermione argued irritably, stealing his usual scowl. He grinned at the sight of it, pleased that he seemed to have rubbed off on her. "We're never going to find them, so what's the point?"_

 _Draco halted in his tracks and spun around to face her. Startled by the abrupt change in pace, Hermione bumped into him, surprise wiping her irritable expression clean. He cradled her face gently in his hands and forced her to look up at him. "We are going to find them. I swear on my life, love, we'll find them."_

 _"How can you be so sure?" Hermione sniffed, exhaustion creeping over her, the stress of the search getting to her._

 _"Because we're together," he said simply. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. "And we both know that when we work together, we can accomplish quite a lot."_

 _Overwhelmed by emotion, Hermione simply placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth in gratitude for his reassuring presence. Pulling back, she whispered, "I'm still not going."_

 _Amused by her sass, Draco smirked and let her think she won, watching her retreating figure appreciatively. He called out her name and threw her up over his shoulder as she turned to face him. She shrieked indignantly as he made his way up the stone pathway to their flat. "Draco Malfoy, you put me down right this instant!"_

 _"No. I don't think I will. You're going to go inside, put on clothes that aren't covered in sand, and meet me back here in ten minutes," he said, ignoring her demand entirely._

 _"You know, any other boyfriend would carry their girlfriend in their arms. All romantic like and what not. Certainly not thrown over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes," Hermione huffed indignantly._

 _Draco craned his neck over his shoulder. "I'm not any other boyfriend."_

 _Her twinkling laugh warmed his very soul. "And thank Merlin for that!"_

* * *

Following an intense silence, the court room descended into a madness that refused to relent for an outrageous amount of time. Kingsley struggled immensely to bring things back into order. It seemed no silencing spells would be enough to keep people from exclaiming over the apparent fact that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were a couple.

The chatter was still somewhat out of control when the questioning resumed.

"Mr. Malfoy, you mean to tell the court that you and Hermione Granger are romantically involved?" Kingsley asked. Draco nodded in the affirmative. "How did this relationship come to be?"

Draco looked pained as he answered, "I-I can't tell you that."

Kingsley sighed deeply. "Can you tell me why the two of you were in Australia?"

"Hermione's parents. We were looking for them. I found her just weeks after the final battle and we agreed to go look for them together," Draco explained. "I didn't know I was 'fleeing the country to evade arrest'. All I knew was that the war was over and she needed my help."

Kingsley showed no emotion, though he did turn to his fellow magistrates, explaining, "Miss Granger's parents were, uh, _relocated_ to Australia to ensure their safety during the war."

Magistrate Tisday, who clearly held a great personal disdain for Draco, scoffed, "A safety measure that was only necessary because of the likes of Mr. Malfoy, here."

Draco suddenly found himself tasting the bitterness of his own blood. The inside of his cheek suffered as he struggled not to blurt out the truth. Just like during the war, to tell the truth was to die. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. It stung.

"How are we to be sure that these feelings Miss Granger has for him are real? Stockholm Syndrome is not uncommon among kidnapping victims," Tisday suggested with a suspicious glare sent Draco's way. It was not an accusation he had been unprepared for. "She may be a strong witch, but anyone subjected to the cruel ministrations she was likely to have endured-"

Finally, it was time.

"While I thank you for your concern, Magistrate Tisday, I can assure you that Draco Malfoy neither kidnapped me nor held me against my will."

Hermione remained strong even as every eye in the room turned to the owner of the voice. Shocked gasps rang through the room as they came to the realization that two thirds of the Golden Trio seemed to be defending the Death Eater.

"Miss-Miss Granger," Tisday stammered. The elder, straight-laced witch had not expected the girl's appearance. She had assumed she would come to testify against the boy and take her leave. Even before the war, the witch had her eye on Hermione as a prospective protégé. She was brilliant and righteous and certainly the formidable force the Ministry needed. To see her take the stand in favor of the Death Eater on trial was a shock to the system. For the first time in decades, Magistrate Matilda Tisday was speechless.

"I'm afraid that my testimony is quite as limited as Draco's, but I can assure you that he did not kidnap me," Hermione stated bravely, wincing as she registered how entirely weak their defense was. "It's not lost on me that this trial is doomed, seeing as the truth is locked to us. But I want it to be known, at least, that Draco Malfoy is innocent of my kidnapping. We decided together to move to Australia because we couldn't stand the thought of being apart any longer. It was my misguided notions that led us to leave the country without consideration that there might be repercussions such as this."

"You believed that he wouldn't be brought to justice?"

Hermione took a moment to answer, instead gazing at Draco. He offered her a weak smile, the kind he used to sneak her way during their sixth year. The kind of smile that comes when you feel like you would be sobbing instead if you didn't at least try. She steeled her shoulders and agreed with Kingsley's statement wholeheartedly. "What Draco did during the war…well, it shouldn't have resulted in this spectacle, that's for certain. So forgive me for believing that we had gotten through the horror of it at last once Voldemort was gone."

Kingsley ignored the shudder that rippled through the court room at the sound of the dark wizard's name. He asked what everyone had begun to wonder, "And why, Miss Granger, can you not be the one to vouch for Mr. Malfoy? You seem to know the information that he apparently cannot speak of."

Harry, who had remained silently by Draco's side, finally spoke up. In a reluctant voice, Harry said, "Minister, Hermione is the only other person that I mentioned before. She, too, took an Unbreakable Vow."

"How unfortunate," Magistrate Tisday tsked in a tone that sounded eerily familiar. Harry had to shake of thoughts of Dolores Umbridge as he composed himself.

"Be that as it may, if the two of you cannot provide someone that is able to speak on your behalf, I'm afraid there is no choice but to convict Mr. Malfoy of his crimes," Kingsley said rather hesitantly. Try as he might to be emotionally unbiased and detached from the case, he could feel Hermione's desperate eyes on him, begging for help. "Before I call the first session to an end, is there anything further you wish to say in your defense, Mr. Malfoy?"

All eyes moved to Draco with their undivided attention. It didn't faze him, for the boy had eyes only for Hermione. She could barely look at him. Because when she did, all she saw in those grey eyes was guilt. He was trying to beg her for forgiveness. The chaos of the overly crowded court room melted away into an easy silence in her mind. She watched him with bated breath, afraid she knew exactly what he was thinking. He mouthed the words, "I'm so sorry."

"No!" she cried, unable to control her sobs any longer, "No, Draco, please! You can't!"

"What else can I do, love?" he murmured miserably. There was nothing he loathed more than causing her pain. "Maybe it won't work. Maybe nothing will happen."

Hermione shook her head frantically. "But it will! Please, don't do this!"

But the stubborn boy had already decided. He would not live in Azkaban. He would not subject Hermione to that miserable life of his mother. Always waiting, always worried. No. He would finally take control. He would finally make a stand for himself. For what was right. Even if it killed him.

Even if it killed him.

* * *

In the wake of Draco's following declaration, Hermione was ushered from the court room along with the rest of its occupants. In a sea of strangers, Hermione's already fragile heart shattered, the brittle pieces kicked and scattered to the winds by the emerging masses.

The Weasley family and Harry stood in a loose circle around their favorite brunette witch. She was locked in a protective hug from George with Harry trying to console her. Both of their efforts were in vain. There's was nothing to say that would make her hurt less.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron scoffed at the bawling Hermione, strolling over to the rest of his family.

In that moment, the contempt George felt for his younger sibling went against everything his playful nature stood for, but there was no denying his current hatred.

"Draco's just agreed to take Veritaserum," Harry said gravely. Ron raised a disinterested eyebrow and scoffed. "The git probably built up an immunity to it during the war. Fat lot of good that'll do."

No one saw Hermione's vicious right hook coming.

Ron struggled to pick himself up off the ground. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the pristine floor in disbelief.

As Hermione was shaking with so much fury that she couldn't form a coherent sentence, George stepped in with a deadly calm voice. "For your information, Ronald, as I know you weren't listening to a damn word, Draco and Hermione both made an Unbreakable Vow not to speak of their part in the war."

Ron blinked rapidly. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. His eyes flicked from the crestfallen George to the anguished Harry to the vengeful Hermione and back again. "You-you mean…"

"That by agreeing to take Veritaserum, Draco has essentially agreed to die."

* * *

 ** _A/N: Please don't stop reading this now! I swear it gets better! I mean, this is listed under Romance/Friendship, not tragedy. Just remember that. Nobody dies, I swear (except maybe Ron's dignity). I'm nervous to end on this because I'm afraid you guys won't want to read ahead, thinking the worst will happen. I promise there's more to the trial! Please, please keep reading!_**

 ** _And please, please keep reviewing! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside :) We're almost at 100 reviews! How crazy is that?!_**

 ** _Also, fear not! There won't be a long wait time for the next update. I'll probably only make you suffer for a day or two ;)_**


	26. Foolish Fighting

_Chapter Twenty Six  
Foolish Fighting_

"Hello? I'm home!" a feminine voice called out, the front door creaking open and closed. In the living room, Cassie froze in her spot on the loveseat where she and Harry had rested just two days before. She didn't known the owner of the pretty voice and hadn't expected any company. She had been left horribly alone in the cozy house. Alone to fret and cry and she hated every minute of it.

"What a nice welcome, you wankers!" the girl cried irritably. "Send me an owl demanding I return home for Hermione with no word of why. Not to mention the fact that she's finally returned, and now the silent treatment?"

"They're-they're not here." Cassie had no idea that the ginger girl she approached nervously was the former love of Harry Potter. Ginny's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs as she took in the slight blonde. She eyed the girl's delicate features and white blond hair.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize any of Fleur's family was visiting," Ginny apologized, regretting her usual gruff behavior. But to her confusion, the pretty girl only tilted her head curiously. "You-you are related to Fleur, right?"

Cassie shook her head slowly. "Not that I know of. I'm Cassie. You are?"

"Ginny Weasley," she introduced somewhat warily to the stranger.

"Oh my goodness, you're Ginny?" Cassie exclaimed excitedly. "George has told me so much about you! You play Quidditch, right?"

She shifted her bag on her shoulder and nodded. "Yes. I've been training in America. Listen, um, not to be rude, but I don't know you. What are you doing in my house and where is my family?"

Cassie blushed profusely as she stumbled over her words in a rush to explain herself. "Oh God, I should have started with that, shouldn't I? Sorry, I'm just nervous. I've heard so much about you! I came back with George and Harry when they came for Draco's trial. That's where everyone is now."

"T-trial? Draco's on trial?" Ginny echoed in a shriek, frantically searching the face of the other girl for any sign of a joke. "That's why Hermione came back?"

Cassie nodded sadly. "I had only just met her before some Ministry officials came and arrested him. I was with George and Harry when they agreed to go back with her, and they couldn't exactly say no when I said I was coming, too."

"Merlin, this is awful. I helped George get them together, you know? Ron probably hates me for it, but I just wanted Hermione to be happy. She's like a sister to me. I can't believe no one told me sooner!" Ginny groaned in frustration. She would have taken the first portkey home if she had known. Something about Cassie's presence was bothering her, and she decided to just ask. "If everyone is at the trial, why did you stay behind?"

"I didn't have a choice," Cassie sighed tragically, her face revealing how torn up she was about it. "I would have only hurt the case. Put more negative light on the family."

"The family?" Ginny questioned. Before the blonde could answer, a large tawny owl swooped into the room and deposited an envelope in Cassie's lap. She stared at it blankly before she lifted it with trembling hands. Ginny glanced at the writing on the letter inside. "Hey, that's Harry's-"

She was cut off by a sharp sob. Her ginger locks whipped around wildly as she snapped her head over to look at the girl. Her dainty fingers were covering her mouth, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. Ginny pried the letter from her hands and read it for herself.

 _I wasn't going to, but I know you would've beat me senseless if I didn't write when I said I would. I don't have good news. As expected, the defense was weak since neither of them can tell the truth. He was cleared of the kidnapping charges, but unless he can find someone to speak on their behalf, he's going to be convicted._

 _Cassie, I'm scared. I've always been the hero, whether I wanted to be or not. I want to be one for you and Hermione, but I can't do a damn thing. I'm useless. I'm bloody useless and I don't know how you'll ever forgive me._

 _Cassie, he's agreed to take the Veritaserum. I think you know what that means._

"Drake can't die!" Cassie wailed hysterically. Ginny's eyes widened in surprise at the outburst. "They can't do this! They can't take him away. I only just got him back!"

Ginny was perplexed. "Cassie, you know Malfoy?"

Through strikingly familiar silver eyes, the blonde expressed her utter despair to the youngest Weasley. She sniffled and wiped at her moist eyes. "He's-he's my big brother," she hiccupped.

The shock she felt at the admission rivaled that of when George had told her Draco Malfoy was in love with Hermione Granger.

Reeling with the new information, Ginny gathered her wits about her and jumped to her feet. If she understood anything in life, it was the importance of family. And despite her disbelief, Ginny was determined to keep the Malfoy family together. "Come on, then. It can't hurt to show your face now. Let's get you cleaned up."

"What for?" Cassie gulped as she looked up at the intimidating ginger. The wicked grin on her face was something both wondrous and terrifying. Ginny beamed. "We're going to crash the trial, of course!"

* * *

"Draco Lucius Malfoy! How dare you give up your life just like that!" Hermione raged as she stormed into his holding cell. The blonde teenager looked up in fright as the witch stormed in. She pummeled him somewhat blindly through her tears until she just sank into him and cried. Warm, thin arms curled around her. His breath was at her ear as she clung to him. "You're an idiot. An absolute, unbearable moron, you know that?"

"I know," he sighed into her bushy mane. "I know, love. I'm scared, too."

Hermione pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. She witnessed the utter terror in them and shuddered. "There has to be a better way. You can't just give up like this!"

"I'm not giving up, Hermione," Draco said calmly. She glared at him viciously, but he wasn't backing down. "It's this or go to Azkaban. I can't live there. And I can't let you live like my mother. I can't reduce you to that. My whole life I was called a coward, always going along with whatever was happening. Until you. Until you."

"Draco," Hermione whimpered. Draco stole a quick kiss for strength. He rested his forehead against hers. "You showed me what it was to stand up for what you believe in no matter the cost. And I never have. I fought for you, I fought for the Order. But everything I did was in secret. It's time everyone knows what I really did. Who I am. Who we are. I'd rather die an honorable death with everyone knowing the truth, then live out the rest of my life in Azkaban as a vile criminal."

"Please, Draco, please don't be a hero. I want you alive. I _need_ you. I've already lived thinking you were dead. Draco, I can't do it again," Hermione pleaded.

Draco smiled down at her, broken and scared. "Hermione, love, I'm lost to you either way. Give me this."

"I love you, Draco," Hermione murmured at last. He placed a lingering kiss on the crook of her neck and whispered, "I was going to marry you, Hermione Jean Granger."

* * *

George had been in the room with Hermione and Draco, as per ruled by Draco's guard. However, at Draco's heartbreaking admission, George couldn't stand it. He fled the room like a bat out of hell, salty tears blurring his vision as he raced down the hall. Harry called after him in concern as George went flying past. The lanky ginger was gone before he could stop him.

George returned only an hour later looking worse for the wear, his eyes puffy and red, his voice raw. He refused to tell anyone where he had gone and why.

8888

Becs groaned irritably as the shrill ringing of her phone dragged her out of her blissful sleep. Muttering murderous words under her breath, the sleepy surfer answered it with a froggy, "Hello?"

"Becs, oh Becs,"a voice sob hysterically. Becs bolted upright into a sitting position. "George?" she cried.

She didn't know how she knew that it was George calling, but she didn't care. His sobs seized her heart with an icy terror. She had been worried about him after the last time they had talked. What could possibly have happened? "Red? Red, tell me you're okay."

After some unintelligible blubbering gibberish, George finally choked out, "Becs, it's just so awful. If you'd seen them. Seen their faces. And-and Draco-oh Merlin. It's over. _It's over._ "

"Red, who? What's over? You're not making any sense!" Becs rushed out, wishing against all odds that he wasn't halfway across the world.

"Becs, I miss you so much. Seeing them, I just-I need to see you. I can't take it anymore. I'm trying to be strong for them, the way you were for me, but I can't. How did you do it? How did you fix me? How were you so strong?" George's crying had softened somewhat, but each heaving breath was a dagger in her heart.

Becs smiled sadly into the phone. "George," she murmured tenderly, "You just have to love them."

The silence on the other end of the line made her immediately regret being so truthful. But then.

"I love you, too, Becs," George breathed in a trembling voice. Becs' whole body sang with absolute joy.

There was so much she wanted to say, so much she needed to know about what was going on, but she never got the chance. On the other end of the line, she heard Harry's voice say, "Mate, you've got to get back. They're starting up again in 20 minutes. They won't let Hermione see Draco anymore and she's not taking it well."

"I'll be right there," George said to him, his voice distant as he turned away from the phone. It was louder when he addressed her again. "Becs, I'm sorry for being so mental. I'll explain everything to you, I swear. But I have to go now."

Long after the line had gone dead, Becs sat there with her phone pressed to her ear. She couldn't stand being so clueless. And she was not one to sit around and wait for something to happen. Becs was a doer, and she had going without doing for far too long.

* * *

"Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed bewilderedly as she caught sight of her daughter. In tow of the freckle faced ginger was none other than Draco's sister. Mrs. Weasley gaped at the unlikely pair. "What in Merlin's name are you two doing here? And together?"

Ginny threw her arms around her mother in a Weasley bear hug. As she pulled away, she demanded answers. "What is going on with this family? Keeping secrets from me, only contacting me when it's almost too late? I had to find out from Draco Malfoy's sister-yeah, I said that right-what was happening!"

Behind her, Cassie waved sheepishly at the fierce woman that was both at once warm and terrifying.

"Harry sent a letter explaining the state of the trial. We couldn't stay away with news like that," Ginny explained simply, daring anyone to argue their presence. No one was foolish enough to pick a fight with her.

"Mrs. Weasley," Cassie braved, "Where is Hermione?"

At the mention of her friend, Mrs. Weasley's usually cheery face darkened. She sighed, "I'm afraid they just pried her apart from Draco. They're both in a right state at the moment. Hermione's inconsolable."

She had no sooner finished speaking when Cassie caught sight of the girl in question. Hermione spotted Cassie at almost the exact same time. Without warning, Hermione launched herself at Draco's sister. "I'm so, so sorry, Cassie!" Hermione gushed guiltily. "I'm so sorry!"

Cassie wrapped her arms around her, unsure what she was apologizing for. Her ribs protested vocally against Hermione's death grip. In a breathless voice, she wondered, "What on earth for? It's not your fault, Hermione!"

"I just feel like I should be able to do something!" Hermione cried in frustration. "It's so cruel to get him back like this."

Cassie made the older girl look into her eyes. The similarity they held to Draco's made Hermione want to cry all over again. "Hermione, I got him back. That's all that matters. I got to see him grown up. Happy. In love. That's all I can ask for. Don't ever apologize for that."

Hermione offered her a heartbroken smile in response. Cassie wanted to say more, but Ginny stole Hermione away from her. In her place, George stepped up. He didn't look too great.

"George, have you been crying?"

The wizard nodded shamelessly. "Just don't tell too many people, yeah?" he asked of her.

"Of course not," Cassie said seriously. "Are you okay?"

"I think I might be. Someday," George answered seriously. Cassie gave him a knowing look. "I don't suppose that answer has anything to do with a certain Australian friend of mine, does it?"

George seemed grateful for the teasing reprieve. Giving it right back to her, George said, "Don't you even go there. I'm not the only one who fell head over heels in Quarry Bay."

Satisfied by the brilliant blush that rose to her pale cheeks, George grinned from ear to ear. Cassie rolled her eyes at his childishness. "Speaking of Harry. Where is he?"

Ginny bounded up to her brother and tackled him with a hug. After an entertaining exchange of words, Ginny unknowingly echoed Cassie's question. Glancing between the two girls somewhat uncomfortably, George admitted, "I don't know where he went. We were walking back inside the Ministry before he stopped dead. Tells me he figured it out, whatever it is, and apparated to Merlin knows where."

Cassie grimaced when she thought of apparating. Just the thought of it made her feel sick all over again. "I'm worried about him," Cassie fretted anxiously, "He sounded so defeated in his message. Like it was all his fault, that I'd never forgive him."

George clapped the confused girl on the back and shook his head. "I'm afraid that's just the Harry we all know and love. He takes a personal responsibility for everything. You better get used to it now," George explained with a wink. Ginny shot the pair of them a curious look. She was about to question what George meant when she spotted a newcomer to the group.

"George, tell me I'm dreaming," Ginny blurted suddenly, brown eyes wider than the moon. "Tell me Hermione's not getting a hug from _Narcissa Malfoy_."

"You better believe it," George chuckled. "Hermione sought her out when we came back. They are scary good together."

Neither noticed the frozen girl between them. For Cassie, the chaotic world around them screeched to a halt. Sound no longer existed, time no longer mattered. The only thing Cassie could see was the elegant blonde in lavender robes of the finest quality. Platinum blonde hair straight as a pin was pulled back into a silver dragon barrette. Her grey eyes were filled with worry, her pale, thin lips pulled into a taut frown.

She was suddenly six years old again. She was screaming. She was crying. There was a cold, frightened voice calling her name. A clammy hand wrapped around hers. Draco's cries of anguish in her ears. A shadowed hall. Darkness. So much darkness. Harsh words and exchanges made. Threats whispered in a voice that sent chills down her spine. Alone with a snaggle-toothed stranger. Locked in a closet. Alone. Lost. Abandoned. A Malfoy no more.

George was the first to notice Cassie's odd behavior. He became aware of her when he felt the complete stillness from her in a hall that was brimming with bustling people. He flicked his gaze from Narcissa to Cassie once or twice before realizing the gravity of the situation. Upon seeing Cassie's stricken expression, George was spurred into action.

Narcissa Malfoy turned her head just in time to see the retreating backs of the funny Weasley boy and the small blonde he had in tow. The usually frigid woman felt a pang of longing. Somewhere out there was a young blonde girl just like that. One that she should never have let go of. One that she cried for every night. One she would never know. Never see grow up. Never hold again.

There were days that Narcissa Malfoy regretted ever having children. All she had ever done was offer them a life wracked with pain, forever unable to explain why.

* * *

When the recess was over, Hermione felt sick to her stomach. She was no longer crying. She was merely numb. The idea of him really being gone was too much for her to comprehend. George firmly held her hand, looking desperately for any sign of their bespectacled best friend.

"Draco Malfoy, you have agreed to take the Veritaserum," Kingsley began haltingly. He had vehemently disagreed with the other magistrates during the court's recess. Draco Malfoy was so young to be lost to the world, no matter the outcome. He had urged for them to put off the trial until a date further in the future with hopes that someone who could better shed light on the situation would step forward. It disturbed him to witness the blatant contempt his colleagues had for the boy. They had cried justice, but he had seen their hearts for what they were. They merely wanted revenge. And if the trembling boy chained to the chair before them satisfied their desire to 'conquer evil', then they were more than pleased to convict him with as little resistance as possible.

Closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, for the first time marveling at the sensation now that he knew it would soon end, Draco nodded in affirmation. "I have," he said in a mere whisper. His eyes opened to meet Hermione's for support. He kept his them trained on her as he addressed the crowd. "Before I take it, I just want to say something," Draco said, his voice trembling but louder. "I am sorry for the person I was before I got to know you. And I can never thank you enough for the person you made me. We fought like hell and somehow survived. And though our time was short, I couldn't have asked for anything more. You are perfection, Hermione Granger, and I'm sorry I couldn't give you more."

Hermione couldn't even see Draco's regretful expression through the thick fog of tears in her eyes. Through gasping breaths, she mouthed, "I love you."

A plainly dressed witch approached Draco explaining the effects of Veritaserum. He listened rather absently, too busy steeling his nerves lest he duck out and not take it. He took the vial from the small witch, hating his body for betraying his expressionless face. The tremor in his hands was glaringly obvious to anyone looking closely. He let out a shaky breath. "You can do this," he encouraged himself. "Be brave, Draco. Be brave."

Just as Draco lifted the vial to his lips, a voice shouted, "Wait!"

The noise startled him, and he dropped his hand. Harry Potter had burst into the court room like a mad man, flabbergasted Aurors charging after him. "Don't drink that yet, Draco!"

"Mr. Potter, what is the meaning of this?" Kingsley bellowed in outrage.

Harry lugged a heavy rectangular object to the podium before the Minister. "Sir, sir," he acknowledge somewhat breathlessly. "I had an idea. You asked earlier if there were any other living person that could speak for them. And Hermione once told me that the only other people who knew the truth were dead."

"Your point, Mr. Potter?"

"Sir, witches and wizards can stay on, even after they're dead. And knowing Hermione and Draco, I had a suspicion of who might have been their bonder for the Unbreakable Vow. And sir, I was right."

"Get to the facts, Harry," Kingsley urged.

"Alright, alright. The portraits, sir, the portraits at Hogwarts," Harry laughed, his relief at solving the mystery apparent. He set the object in his hands on a desk and yanked the blanket covering it down.

The twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore greeted the dumbstruck court room.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, it does make me glad to see you as Minister," the portrait Dumbledore greeted fondly. Despite being a grown man, Kingsley appeared as a schoolboy might had he been praised by a favorite teacher. "However, when Harry came into my office, quite unexpectedly, I might add," he chuckled with a wink directed at Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived blushed at the memory of his rather frazzled entrance. "And explained to me the predicament in which we find ourselves, I was most aggrieved."

At the portrait's insistence, Harry angled it so that it was visible to both Draco and Kingsley. Harry pretended not to notice the tears welling up in the corners of Draco Malfoy's stormy grey eyes as he looked upon his former headmaster.

"Ah, my dear boy, Draco," Dumbledore called gently, a gleam in his eye usually reserved for proud parents. "I am so very pleased to see that you survived the war along with Miss Granger."

Draco had to take a moment to clear the lump in his throat. When he finally felt stable enough to speak, he acknowledged the professor in a meek voice. "We did everything you told us to. Even when I thought we might die from the pain of it."

"And I commend the both of you for it," he answered proudly.

Draco felt like a little boy begging for his time out to be over as he admitted, "Professor, I would really like for this all to be over."

"I'm sure you would, Draco. Fear not, we will fix this."

The irritable Magistrate Tisday had had enough. "Excuse me, Albus, but you and everyone in this room knows that a portrait's testimony is worthless in the court," she snapped brusquely.

Every Hogwarts student looking in on the trial had eager eyes rested on their headmaster. The mischievous twinkle in his sky blue eyes made the magistrates squirm. Though his body was gone from this life, Albus Dumbledore still very much held a captivating power over wizarding kind.

While everyone was focused on the elderly wizard, Draco found himself seeking out Hermione to see her reaction. Before he could spot her, Dumbledore dropped a bombshell.

"Yes, yes, of course, Matilda," Dumbledore agreed, "But the truth is, Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger had the power to tell you themselves this whole time."

Draco's head whipped to face the portrait in disbelief. In the crowd, Hermione's jaw nearly hit the floor.

"But-but Professor, we had to-" Draco stammered.

"Make an Unbreakable Vow?" Dumbledore finished knowingly. "Yes, of course you did. The two of you needed to know the seriousness of the situation we found ourselves in. Nothing but an Unbreakable Vow would have done that."

Draco was growing as frustrated as the magistrates. He urged, "Then how are we supposed to tell them what happened?"

"Well, you only had to think that you made an Unbreakable Vow," Dumbledore grinned cheekily. "I was rather adept at faking them in my youth, you see. Honestly, for as intelligent a pairing as you and Miss Granger make, I'm rather disappointed the two of you didn't realize that sooner."

It was in that moment that Draco realized that he had been right all along. Years of Hermione's arguments otherwise had been entirely wasted. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was nothing but a delusional, manipulating, meddling madman.

* * *

 ** _A/N: See? I didn't even make you wait hardly a day! And he doesn't have to die! Yay! As if I would have invested the time to write an 80,000 word story only to kill the main character haha. I don't like killing anyone off. I mean, it sucked writing this with Fred dead, even though that was actually canon. The next chapter is what you've probably all been wondering about._**

 ** _Yes, we're finally going to find out how Draco and Hermione came to be! :D I'm really excited to write it, but I'm afraid you'll have to be patient again. I've got a crazy busy week coming up, but I'll do my best!_**

 ** _Can you even believe this story is over 80,000 words now? This story started out with chapter two and four as a one shot basically. I can't believe how much it's grown. I can't thank you enough for reading! And for the reviews! I'm just one shy from 100 reviews! You guys are fabulous, you encourage me to write so much, please keep them coming!_**


	27. Fourth Year Friendship

**_A/N: To clear up any confusion, just know that the parts with Draco and Hermione are the memories that Cassie and the rest of the court are seeing. I just didn't want to put it all in italics because reading too much of it gives me a headache._**

 _Chapter Twenty-Seven  
_ _Fourth Year Friendship_

Cassie was ready to admit that she was beyond lost. Despite all those hours she had Harry regale her with tales of magic and witches and wizards, it was still a world that had been lost to her. She only understood, thanks to George's reassuring whispers, that her brother was not about to die for telling the truth.

The memories displayed before her were meant to give the court answers, but they only proved to raise more questions for her. She didn't know the context or the significance of most of what she and everyone else was witnessing. But that didn't matter to her. For Cassie, they meant so much more. They were like a movie of her brother's life, offering her glimpses of what she could have been part of if it weren't for her unfortunate lack of magic. Denied her brother for nearly a decade, she was suddenly watching Draco grow up right before her eyes.

She refused to let the boy in the chair be the final image, the final product of the mental and physical growth of the boy in the memories. She pictured the end result of those memory Dracos as the handsome, loving boy that had thrown his arms around her in Australia, sobbing in the revelation of finding her alive. Not the Draco she accused of growing up to be a monster. And certainly not the blonde slumped in exhaustion in the cold, unforgiving chair, thousands of vengeful eyes waiting to deliver a cruel sentence only after they tore his very mind apart for answers.

It was such a powerful experience that she almost managed to forget that the mother that had abandoned her was sitting just a few mere rows away. If Narcissa Malfoy hadn't been so preoccupied with worry over who she thought to be the only child she had left, she would have noticed that the newly arrived blonde sat with the Weasley boy bore a striking resemblance to the son her eyes were so intensely trained on.

* * *

"You're the one who saved that bloody bird, aren't you?" Draco Malfoy questioned, taking a pause from his scribbling. Hermione's head shot up to look at him, startled by his voice. When she had been assigned partners with him for their Charms homework, and in their first week no less, she assumed he would simply ignore her altogether. She flicked her gaze at his pale face, for once not finding his usual smirk. Since it wasn't there, she deigned him with an answer. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Malfoy."

She didn't see it, as she had immediately thrown herself back into her notes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. He didn't let her get away with the obvious lie. "For someone who prides herself with being such a goody two shoes, I know you break the rules quite often. Don't lie and tell me it wasn't you."

"I don't see why you care," Hermione huffed irritably, "If Buckbeak needed saving, it was only because of you."

Draco's fist clenched in response, his knuckles going white, but he slowly relaxed his fingers one by one. He stared at the top of Hermione's bushy mane of chocolate brown hair and wondered what in Merlin's name he was doing. The feeling was unknown to him, but it had been haunting him since the previous year. His cheek was still smarting from her well executed slap. In not a rare, but a first, moment of humility, Draco said in a low voice, "I know. I was vile about it. Whether you admit it or not, I know you had something to do with it. I only wanted to let you know that I was…pleased."

"Pleased?" Hermione echoed in disbelief, her dark brows disappearing into her curls. She stared at him warily, but as per usual, his pointed face and stormy eyes were unreadable. "What are you on about, Malfoy? Why are you even treating me like I'm somewhat human? I mean, this whole project you haven't said one nasty thing to me!"

"Would you like me to?" he snapped in exasperation. He felt a low heat rise to his cheeks. The young blonde was uncomfortable with how many new things he was experiencing around this witch.

Hermione shook her head slowly. "No, no, of course not. It's just…you're not acting like you, Malfoy."

He didn't bother giving her a response. Draco simply dropped his head and continued on with his work. He was warring with himself about talking to her. She was the only person that had ever made him think about someone other than himself. Her passion about that stupid bloody bird-well, he had never felt that strongly toward anything. And he was beginning to feel like he might want to. Hermione's blazing brown eyes and fierce voice had been in the forefront of his mind all summer. Perhaps it was finally time for him to do some growing up.

"Maybe…maybe I'm just tired of acting like me," Draco finally admitted. Without any warning, he gathered his books and left Hermione in the wake of his powerful words.

* * *

That had been the beginning, plain as it was. Just a proud boy finally willing to reach out and a patient girl to guide the way. It was no torrid love affair as some might have guessed. Sure, there were secret late night meetings and gentle embraces of the hand holding nature, but nothing more until both had survived the war. It was a tentative friendship that had morphed into a strong and simple love that defied any and all expectations.

It wasn't an easy start by any means. Just because he had shown some signs of good didn't mean Draco had forgotten his upbringing. He was quick to snap, easy to send hiding behind his sneering front, and fairly foul mouthed. But Hermione was patient, and though he was loathe to admit it, Draco was appreciative for it. She set him straight in the early days and he strived to appease her without revealing how eager he was to do so.

88888

"Look, Malfoy," Hermione sighed softly, "If we're going to be…not enemies, then you have to stop with all your superiority nonsense."

Draco's grey eyes narrowed and his trademark smirk twisted into a scowl. He didn't look happy but nodded in agreement. "It's been ingrained in my head since before I even knew what it meant, Granger. Believe it or not, I _am_ trying to tone it down. It's just been harder than I thought."

Hermione offered him an understanding smile. Though they had been 'not enemies' for a few weeks, he still couldn't get used to the witch looking at him with anything other than irritation or disdain. He wasn't quite sure he liked the Muggle creatures flapping about in his stomach. Ever since she had told him about her love of butterflies (a ridiculously named creature, if you asked him), he felt like they had taken up residence in his usually indifferent self.

"I understand that. But you can't just call me a Mudblood whenever you get uncomfortable or frustrated. That's not how…not enemies work."

* * *

Draco's first glimpse into the Hermione he came to love came just weeks after their initial exchange of words. After a few somewhat awkward study sessions (Draco refused to accept the term 'hanging out' that Hermione suggested), he still had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He knew he was playing with fire, but there was something about the witch that kept drawing him back in. He realized that he wanted to know what was on the inside, what her motivations were, what her hopes and fears were. And he only realized that as he entered their empty classroom to find her wreaking havoc on the items inside.

Draco dodged flying books and quills and parchment as he tried to make his way to the center of the flurry of classroom objects. Hermione's usually calm face was a mask of defiant rage as she flicked her wand in aggressive patterns. He couldn't deny that she was magnificent.

The madness came to an abrupt stop, everything whirling about in the air collapsing to the floor as Draco shouted her name. Her mouth dropped open in surprise, but her eyes retained their angered gleam. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" he retorted, wishing that she had instead been glad to see him, though he couldn't fathom why.

Hermione shot him a harsh glare and folded her arms across her chest. She snapped, "It's not like you really care."

"Is that it? Is that what's making you upset?" he wondered, eyeing a viciously ripped up letter on the desk before her. Ignoring her cries of protest, Draco darted his hand out to snatch up the shreds. With a simple spell, he stitched it back together and read on.

While much of it made little sense to him, some words stuck out. Phrases such as 'childish behavior', 'ridiculous idea of a magical', 'proper schooling in London', 'disappointed', and time to grow up' lit a fire in him he didn't know was there.

"Your parents…they think that magic is a childish venture? Wanting you to go home for 'proper' schooling?" Draco questioned in outrage. Hermione's gaze turned to the ground. "Granger, what you can do is incredible. Do they not understand that?"

"No, they don't," she admitted with a tragic sigh, slumping onto the desk behind her. Draco remained on his feet. The thought of anyone finding Hermione childish and uncaring of her school work was so outlandish to him that he couldn't sit still. "You wouldn't understand, having grown up with magic, but to muggles, magic is from a storybook. Whimsical and simple. They see it as some kind of parlor trick. My parents, they were happy for me, you know. Confused but pleased, if only to understand why their daughter was able to float books of her shelves. But last year they started getting a little irritated, I suppose. They think I'm wasting my time, that I should pursue 'real career opportunities'."

Draco nodded, taking her honesty in. "Is that why you try so hard here? To be the best to prove to them how important this is?"

Hermione blushed and avoided his intense eyes. "Well, yes and no."

"No?"

She bit her lip, deep in thought, warring with herself about how open she wanted to be. One last glance at his earnest expression and she cracked. "It's mostly because of people like you."

"Me?"

"Finding out I had magic was…earth shattering. I felt like I could finally belong somewhere. But when I got here, it was the same as before. As a witch, I didn't fit in with muggles. As a Muggleborn, I didn't fit in with witches and wizards. But in spite of all that, the gift of magic is so precious to me that I knew I had to keep hold of it no matter what. And when I realized how much prejudice there was, I was afraid if I didn't do well enough, that my magic would be taken away. I couldn't ever live with myself if that happened. So I try to prove to you and all the rest that I deserve it. I deserve magic just as much as you and the next pureblood who looks down on me."

"And here I was just thinking you were an insufferable know-it-all for fun," Draco said.

Hermione looked as though she were about to cast an Avada Kadavra until she noticed the corners of his lips were twitched upwards.

"You-you're joking around with me?" she managed to sputter out in shock.

The truth was, Draco really had no idea how to react to her explanation. He had never held anything so dear. Never had anything he feared losing. He was a shallow person, and he knew it. But perhaps Hermione was beginning to change that.

"Despite what you might think, Granger, not all of us Slytherins are cold, heartless monsters. Perhaps you'll be the first Gryffindor to discover that."

* * *

He had been right, of course. It took a surprisingly short amount of time for Hermione to drag the good hearted center of Draco Malfoy to the light. It was tattered and in need of some serious repairs and fine tuning, but it was there.

"He's a ruddy bastard who isn't worth your time of day, Granger," Draco declared resolutely to the sobbing girl in his arms. His jealousy, yes, he would admit it, at seeing Viktor Krum, his hero, dancing so happily with Hermione had led to his storming from the Great Hall. Unnoticed, the aggravated wizard had paced the halls until his aimless wanderings stumbled across a heartbroken Hermione. His tentative approach had been pointless; she accepted his uncertain hug with a fervor that nearly knocked him off his feet.

"I know," she sniffled. "He's supposed to be my best friend. But-but he's the only one who ever makes me cry! Even you haven't made me cry!"

Draco chuckled softly against her unnaturally sleek curls. He found he missed its usual maddening volume. "Not for a lack of trying until recently," he reminded her.

He celebrated triumphantly on the inside as she pulled her head back just enough to offer him the sight of tiny smile. She met his eyes with tear filled ones, some happiness returning. As she rested her cheek back against his shoulder, she sighed, "You really are a great not enemy, Malfoy."

Draco closed his eyes and breathed her in. "Granger…the next step from not enemy…is it friends?" he wondered slowly. She didn't answer for a moment, and his cheek flared red. Then, "I should think so, yes."

"Do-do you think we're there yet?"

Hermione lifted her head again, this time her lips curled up into a gorgeous grin. "Oh silly, Malfoy. We've been long past not enemies for some time now. I just didn't want to scare you off."

* * *

"Potter and Weasel are going to lock you in the Chamber of Secrets when they find out we're friends, you know that, right?" Draco pointed out for what seemed like the billionth time. Hermione rolled her eyes to the heavens but otherwise ignored him. "I'm serious, Granger. We've been friends for months now, and it's only gone unnoticed because of this bloody tournament. What's going to happen when it's not there to distract your two dimwits?"

Hermione shot him a glare that shut him up, but it didn't wipe the frown from his face. She couldn't resist teasing him when he was all bothered the way he was. Ruffling Malfoy's feathers had quickly become sport for her. "What, Malfoy, don't tell me you'd miss me if we couldn't be friends anymore. You jealous of Harry and Ron?"

She sobered up immediately when he looked her dead on and answered gravely, "Yes. I am."

"You? _Draco Malfoy_? Jealous of my two 'dimwits'?" she tried to clarify. Draco shifted uncomfortably on his perch on the ledge of the Astronomy Tower. His favorite place always made her a bit nervous, but not enough to give up their near daily meetings there.

The pale blonde sighed and slid down the cold stone floor to sit beside her. Hermione relished the warmth that spread from his body to hers. They always cast a warming spell when they traveled up the tower, but it was never quite the same as the real thing. "They get to spend all their time with you without a care in the world," he said irritably, "And they take you for granted. Always relying on you as though they couldn't ever fathom a time when you wouldn't be there to fix whatever they messed up. They say they're your friends, but then they make you cry and belittle you. Yet, here I am, sneaking out all the time, breaking curfew, just to catch a few precious minutes where I don't have to pretend to hate you. _That_ is what I am jealous of."

"Aw, Malfoy, when did you get all sentimental?" Hermione giggled teasingly. Even in the dim light of the fading sun, Hermione could easily spot the boy's cheeks darken a shade. His lips twisted into a scowl, but he wasn't truly bothered. He nudged her playfully, shaking his head. "It's all this time I've been spending with a certain Gryffindork. I think her kindly nature might be rubbing off on me. The horror!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling in spite of him. Draco sighed contently as Hermione rested her head on his shoulder to watch the sinking sun.

His father would bury him alive if he ever caught the two of them like that, but Draco couldn't have cared less. He still had no idea where their new and soon cherished friendship would lead, but he knew he didn't want to lose it.

He had known it wouldn't be easy, but just days later, with the arrival of Harry Potter and the body of a dead classmate, he realized the real complications hadn't even begun.

* * *

There was no exchange of words, but they knew nothing would be the same. Hermione had locked horrified eyes on Draco's when Harry appeared with a dead Cedric Diggory. He had stared back, his already pale face a deathly white. She could see the utter fear painted on his face. A fear different from those around them. A fear that was so much more personal.

Draco knew in that moment that he should have ended it there. He saw no sense in dragging on something that would inevitably end in a completely tragic disaster. Resigned to having lost what would most likely be the only true friend he ever had, Draco carried out his days as though Hermione Granger had never existed.

The young witch, however, had other feelings about the situation and the way in which Draco was dealing with them. What he had thought had been steadfast resolve, had dissipated like smoke in the rain the moment she caught him alone.

"Draco Malfoy, don't you dare act like I don't exist!" Hermione scolded the minute she had dragged him out of sight. He stumbled, off balance from the unexpected attack of the slight girl. When he recovered, he found her glaring at him with the ferocity of a dragon. "What exactly do you hope gain by doing that?"

"It's not safe, Granger," he explained mournfully. "The Dark Lord has returned. In case you forgot, my father was one of his followers. And you're, well, you. This was risky before. Now? Now it's dangerous. Deadly, even."

"Oh, always so dramatic," Hermione said in exasperation. "We've gotten away nearly an entire year with no one noticing. Your father's not in school. Neither is You-Know-Who. I won't stop being friends with you because you're scared. That's not a good enough reason."

"Not good enough?" Draco cried in disbelief. "They all want you dead! You and the other Muggleborns!"

"But _you_ don't," she cut in. "You don't, and that's all that matters to me. You're the only thing that has kept me sane this year with everyone acting so crazy. Tell me you don't want to be friends. Look me in the eye and tell me you won't miss me."

Draco bit his lip and avoided her gaze. He closed his eyes, took a shaky breath, and opened them again. "Fine. You damned Gryffindor minx. I can't. You know I can't."

"Good. So, now that that's settled, care for a cake from the kitchens?"

As the blonde fell into step beside Hermione, he shook his head. "If this doesn't end up with the both of us dead, Granger, I daresay we might be friends for life."

* * *

"Well, you're both clearly not dead, as of yet, Mr. Malfoy," Kingsley Shacklebolt observed, "Though it seems friends is somewhat of an understatement."

Draco looked up at the Minister of Magic with a grim face. Having all those memories sifted through was physically and emotionally draining on a day when the boy was already not at his best. Hermione's heart cried out for him, though reliving their early memories had warmed it. Though he looked scared and sick, wrapped in chains before her, she still couldn't believe how far he had come.

"I fail to see how an adolescent friendship matters to this case," Magistrate Tisday cut in. We need the memories from the war. From his time as a Death Eater. We're wasting precious time on matters that don't matter at all."

Kingsley hardly spared the frustrated witch a glance as he stated, "As beings who live well into their hundreds, Magistrate Tisday, I rather disagree. What's a few moments of our time in the process that decides this young man's fate? And as I, and the rest of the jury, I'm certain, have been lead to understand that it does matter greatly, this friendship of Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger. In fact, it seems to be the key. Now, if you wouldn't mind keeping your comments to yourself, I do believe we should carry on."

* * *

Beside her, the redhead that had stolen her friend's heart laced his fingers with hers and gave them a reassuring squeeze. A low voice murmured, "I know you can't understand everything, Cassie. But you should understand that things are going to get dark, and you're going to see things that you won't like. But you should know that despite what everyone here says, despite what you see in these memories, your brother _is_ a good man."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Thank you to all the people who have been so patient for this update! I swear I hadn't meant to let it go this long without anything. Finals sucked me in and then I started my internship. I am having the time of my life driving all those Belgians 3 It's a lot of hard, physical work and I have very little free time between that and still keeping up with the trimming and shoeing of my clients' horses. But I promise to keep trying my best to give you more! Your reviews and continued reading mean the absolute world to me!**_


	28. Frightening Faith

_Chapter Twenty-Eight  
Frightening Faith_

"Mr. Malfoy, what did Voldemort's return mean to you?" Kingsley Shacklebolt questioned, hoping to give the boy a reprieve from the draining process of the memory viewing.

Draco grimaced at the name, and closed his eyes for a brief second. In a quiet voice, he answered, "The end. It meant the end."

"Of?"

"Innocence," Draco admitted with a voice so full of wistful longing, that Cassie had to give George's hand an extra squeeze. "I knew that it would mean everything was about to change. I returned home to find everyone on edge, friends of my father, original Death Eaters coming round more and more. It wasn't the hub of their activity until the summer between my fifth and sixth year, but there was always someone there, the talk of his return.

"As I always did when I was home for the summer, I kept largely to myself in attempt to avoid it all."

Kinglsey showed no sign of emotion as he stared down at the blonde. "Attempt?"

"It was hard…" Draco said softly, "Hard to keep out of the way at times."

* * *

"Draco, my boy, come here. Come, greet my old friend. You remember Antonin Dolohov, yes?" Lucius Malfoy insisted in his silky smooth voice. The 15 year old Draco reluctantly stepped forward, forcing himself to meet the intense gaze of the dark man. He had black pools for eyes sat atop dark bruises, a scraggly midnight sky beard, and a sinister air that sent chills down Draco's spine. He was meeting the man he would one day take the life of.

This happened more often than Draco was comfortable with. He knew this stream of slightly unhinged men and women that 'dropped by' for visits were really his father's fellow Death Eaters reconnecting. It wasn't lost on him the gravity of the situation. In his free time, he wasted away his hours pining for Hermione and her comforting presence and stimulating conversations. A thought that anyone of his father's visitors wouldn't hesitate to torture him for.

"Yes, Father. I remember," Draco answered, though he hadn't ever remembered seeing the man before. This life was as new to him as it was familiar. He had grown up as a Death Eater's son, a fact he never tried to hide, and while he thought he knew what that meant, he had not been old enough to remember the reality of it.

The seemingly nightly formal dinners he was required to attend were riddled with racist, Pureblood supremacist slurs and rants. Though his face remained stoic and he offered a remark here or there, he felt anything but numb inside. Each 'Mudblood' was like a dagger to his heart. It sickened him to know that he had believed everything they were saying not only months before. It was a frightening faith he had not turned away from but ran with fervor.

He would like to have said that it was Hermione Granger that had turned his world upside down against his will. But he knew the truth. It had been him who had been risky enough to make that first push that set his world off kilter. He had wanted a change and had gotten it. But as he ghosted his way through that prejudiced and eye-opening summer, Draco hadn't quite understood how radical it had been.

He could no longer pretend that his home was what a home should be and that his family was what a family should be.

* * *

The paper airplane that dive-bombed his temple woke Draco up out of his History of Magic induced comatose state. Rubbing at his sleepy eyes, he snatched the persistent plane out of the air before it could peck him again.

 _5:30 A.T._

He risked a glance over at the bushy maned girl studiously scribbling down notes. She was, as usual, the only student awake, let alone alert enough to notice a paper plane travel across the back row of desks. Draco raised a hand up as if to cover a yawn. In reality, it was a smirk hidden behind his palm.

Later that evening, he found himself in his usual perch in the Astronomy Tower with Hermione pacing the stone floors in quite a rage.

"Can you even believe her? Merlin, I've never seen such a vile woman!" Hermione cried angrily. "I mean, I know you hate Harry and all that, but you should see what she's done to his hand! As if that boy needs another awful scar!"

"While you're correct in saying that I hate Scarhead, I do feel for him. I can't even imagine the torture of so much pink," Draco said with a horrified shudder. "Though, with that hideous beast of yours, I suppose you wouldn't mind the kittens all that much."

Childishly, Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. Draco loved it when she dropped the goody goody genius act. Her unexpected playfulness never failed to lift his ever heavier growing heart.

"Speaking of the horrid vision in pink, have you made any more plans?" Draco wondered curiously. Hermione crossed her arms and shook her head. She quit her pacing and came to stand by Draco's perch on the ledge. "I know Harry can teach us, but I think he's afraid of the added responsibility. He carries the world on his shoulders, thinks everything's his fault, and doesn't want to fail anyone. But I _know_ he can do it. I've organized a meeting for those interested on our Hogsmeade trip this weekend."

"Just forcing him into it, then?" Draco chuckled knowingly. When Hermione set her mind to something, it got done. Potter was an idiot for thinking she would let it go. Hermione smiled at him innocently, but he knew that determined twinkle in her eyes.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a time, simply enjoying each other's presence after a summer apart. Though she had asked, he couldn't bring himself to tell her about the dark turn his summer had taken. Everything that had been said should have him wanting to spit on her, the filthy creature. But all he saw was honey brown eyes that lit up when they caught his, a wild bush of chocolate brown curls, a glowing pink smile that beckoned him in. He couldn't reconcile the two images. It was easier to focus on that than think of the two different people he supposed he himself was now.

Just before Hermione was about to leave, Draco snaked a hand around her wrist and held her in place. She turned to him with a curious face, stepping toward him. "You'll teach me, right? What Potter teaches all of you?"

Hermione's lips curled upwards in a slow but brilliant smile. "Of course. I can't have you falling too far behind me, can I?" she teased. There was a sarcastic retort on the tip of his tongue that was never voiced. She had sent his brain into overdrive as she reached up and kissed his cheek before dashing off.

He watched her retreating figure in a state of confusion and awe, his fingertips raised to the pale cheek she had warmed with her lips.

And suddenly they were back. Those damned Muggle butterflies.

* * *

"Draco! Draco! There you are!" Hermione cried excitedly as she shoved the unsuspecting boy into the nearest shady alcove. She may have appeared reserved and dignified around others, but when it came to him, she was rather rough and excitable. It had left him with plenty of bruises and frequent heart attacks.

He placed a hand over his pounding heart as she beamed up at him, out of breath from running to find him. "Merlin, Granger, stop doing that to me!"

She poked him in the ribs, making him squirm away from her as she teased, "Such a baby, you are, Malfoy."

He glowered at her, unimpressed as he demanded to know what was so urgent she had to manhandle him again.

"He's found it!" she exclaimed, "Neville's found the Room of Requirement!"

"Okay? And I care because…?"

Hermione's infectious grin made his own traitorous lips eager to curl upwards in response. "Now we have a place to practice! With Umbridge's ban of student activities, I wasn't sure how we would pull it off. But then Neville found the Room of Requirement and it's perfect!"

"I'm glad, Granger," Draco said honestly, though he suddenly realized what it would mean. Hermione frowned when she saw his eyes grow distant. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," he shrugged off, faking a smirk for his own sake. Once again, she saw right through him and demanded the truth. Irritably, he sighed. "Fine, if you must know, I guess I'm a little disappointed." When she didn't seem satisfied, he reluctantly elaborated, "It's just another thing that will take up a lot of your time. I hardly get to see you as it is."

Hermione's frown vanished and was replaced with a delighted smile. "That's not true at all," she disagreed, "It means even more time because I'll have to teach you everything I learn."

This time it was Draco that left her staring after him as she raised a shaking hand to her kissed cheek.

* * *

"The Inquisitorial Squad? Really? Are you competing for the 'Most Obnoxious Prat Award'?" Hermione demanded in disbelief. She glared distastefully at the shiny new badge pinned to Draco's robes. "Please," he scoffed, "There's no competition."

"I'm serious, Draco," Hermione said, "I know you have to act like the prat you were before but don't you think this is a bit much?"

Draco shook his head. "No, this is just right."

"Now you have to be looking for the DA for Umbridge, though. Don't you find that a conflict of interest?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Umbridge's interests and mine, that is."

"What are you on about?"

Draco slung a lazy arm across Hermione's shoulders startling her with the ease of the gesture. She was usually the touchy feely one while he seemed to take more thought in his actions around her. "What I'm on about is that now I can help you. Tip them off on false times, let you know when we'll be doing rounds and where."

His face fell when she pulled away from him, thinking that his touch was upsetting her. Every time he actually worked up the nerve to touch her, he practically had a nervous breakdown. Afraid she was rejecting him, he clamped up, his walls rising up, his gaze dropped to the floor.

"You joined for us?"

Draco forgot all about the floor when he heard the emotion in her voice. She was gazing up at him with wide, incredulous eyes. "You joined that vile squad with that horrible woman to help us?"

"You mostly. But I suppose by doing that I'm helping the rest of you," Draco said with a shrug. Seconds later, she knocked the wind right out of his lungs as she launched herself at him. He was frozen for a moment before he tentatively wrapped his arms around her in return.

"You're amazing, Draco Malfoy," she laughed, pulling away to look up at him. "You really are."

* * *

Hermione woke with a pained groan as she felt a searing pain rip through her side. Even before she managed to open her eyes, she was aware of someone quite close to her. As her eyes blinked open, she met only darkness until her eyes adjusted. She was in the infirmary. The thought had barely registered before the reason she was there came rushing back to her. The witch let out another moan at the memories came flooding back.

She was distracted from her fright as she registered movement by her side. In the inky blackness of the early morning, his platinum blonde hair gleamed even still. Using his arms as a pillow, Draco was fast asleep beside her. He head was rested in perfect reach of her hand, so she wove her fingers through his blonde fringe and took a deep breath to calm her thoughts.

"I'm so sorry. Hermione, I'm so sorry," he murmured in a sleep laden voice, a silver eye peaking open to catch hers. It was the first time he had called her by her first name.

"It hurts," she whimpered pitifully. Had it been Harry or Ron she would have put on a brave face. But she knew better than to pretend with him. He sat up, taking the hand that was tangled in his hair into his own hand. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. In a shaking voice, he whispered, "I know, I know it hurts. I have a potion for you."

"Will it put me to sleep?" Hermione questioned groggily, her vision going in and out of focus. Draco nodded. "I-I can wait. I want to see you."

"Hermione," Draco breathed heavily, "You were hit with a powerful curse. You need to heal."

"And I will. I just-need to know you're okay."

Draco suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to laugh and cry at the same time. "That _I'm_ okay? You're the one who ran off, broke into the Department of Mysteries, and battled the bloody Death Eaters!"

"Your father…"

The blonde hung his head shamefully. "He's on his way to Azkaban."

"I'm sorry, Draco."

He held her hand up to his lips and they ghosted across her fingers as he sighed, "I'm sorry, too."

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, what can I do for you this evening?" Albus Dumbledore greeted warmly as the boy burst into his office unannounced. Draco paused, suddenly realizing where he was. He had no actual plan, no idea what to say. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to muster the words he needed.

Finally, he took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and said one name, "Hermione Granger."

"Yes? What of Miss Granger?" Dumbledore encouraged, a curious look on his face.

But Draco had nothing more. He hadn't a clue what he wanted, why he came, let alone how to explain himself.

"Does this have something to do with your friendship with the girl?" Dumbledore wondered knowingly, an amused twinkle in his electric blue eyes.

Draco's rigid stance melted instantly, his shoulders slumping forward in defeat. "Of course you already know," he said to himself. He collapsed into a chair across from the Headmaster at his beckoning.

"Yes, Draco, I have known since last year. I know my students. Enough to know that they are always able to surprise you," he admitted with an almost proud smirk directed at the young Malfoy. "But what brings you to me?"

Draco rubbed his face with his hands as he formulated words. He eventually manage to choke out, "I just came from the infirmary."

The weight of his sentence hung between them, a grim reminder of the events of the night.

"Look, Professor, I have no idea what I'm doing here," Draco told him truthfully, "I just saw her lying there, realizing she could have died…oh, Merlin, she could have _died._ And my father was there to ensure it! I-I just panicked and ended up here."

He felt a warm hand descend upon his shoulder, and rather than recoil from it as he felt he should have, he welcomed it. He had always thought Dumbledore a loose minded old bat, but panicked as he was, he appreciated the utter calmness the wizard radiated.

"You care for her." It wasn't a question.

Draco found himself unable to choke back the sob that escaped his lips. His shoulders shook under Dumbledore's tender hand. "I-I _adore_ her," Draco admitted through his tears. "I adore her and tonight my father almost killed her."

"You did not choose an easy friendship, no."

Draco looked to the blue eyes he had thought held nothing but foolish notions and saw only genuine concern. "Professor, when I saw her, so lifeless…I can't live with that. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to her because of me."

Dumbledore paced slowly over to his desk, his expression thoughtful. It seemed that now that he had started, Draco couldn't stop. "This won't be good, sir. My father's failure. He'll be going to Azkaban. I know what that means for me. For my family. I won't be able to escape _him_. But I can't let anything happen to her either."

"What are you saying, Draco?"

"I-I think I'm going to have to join them," Draco gulped in terror, "The Death Eaters. But she's changed everything. I'm not perfect, but I don't believe in what that madman is preaching. It's all lies and propaganda and hate. I know it's selfish and foolish, but I can't lose her. She's changed my world and yet, I'm going to have to fight for the one she convinced me to leave behind."

Dumbledore looked him straight in the eye and Draco held his steady gaze with a new determination. "What is it you intend to do then, Draco?"

"Whatever it takes to keep her safe, Professor. And you're going to help me."

* * *

"He was quite a determined young boy," remarked the portrait of Dumbledore with a proud smile. "Not that he had any idea what he was getting into."

Kinglsey seemed very intrigued by the last memory. He had a feeling that they were getting down to the serious parts of the unlikely lovers' story.

"So, you went to Albus Dumbledore for guidance?" he clarified.

Draco nodded slowly. "I didn't know what else to do. I knew I didn't want that life, but I knew I couldn't safely avoid it. Professor Dumbledore knew it, too."

"And what came of that meeting?"

A secret smile fought its way onto his lips. "Severus Snape's raging disapproval."

* * *

"You…must be…joking," Severus Snape drawled as his gaze flicked from the Headmaster's pleasant expression to his godson's flushed cheeks.

Dumbledore piped up, "Seems that the past has a way of repeating itself, Severus."

Snape's glare by all rights should have melted him to goo with the viciousness of it. Draco wasn't even its recipient and he recoiled from it. But Dumbledore continued to smile, seemingly oblivious to Snape's obvious fury.

"If the past is truly repeating itself then we already know she'll end up dead and he'll end up a spy," Snape said through clenched teeth, uncaring how harsh it sounded. Draco winced but managed to find his voice. "Th-that's why I'm going to become a spy _first_."

Snape's glare flicked to the boy he had always found petulant and cruel and realized he no longer saw a trace of that boy. The boy he saw before him was nearly unrecognizable, his eyes fearful but hopeful, his face earnest, his hands wringing nervously.

"Merlin, just strike me down already. I am too old for this utter idiocy," Snape grumbled to himself as he turned on his heel and stormed from the room. "Complete and utter idiocy."

* * *

"And then what happened?"

Draco carried on. "I pretended that I wasn't absolutely terrified as I said good-bye to Hermione that summer. I didn't want her to think anything was wrong. What might have been waiting for me at home."

"Which was?"

"Voldemort, sir."

Hermione's heart ached. She had remembered that good-bye all too well. He had been cheerful and sweet which had immediately informed her that something wasn't right. She worried for him always, but she felt sick to her stomach as she headed to where her parents had been waving frantically. She glanced back to see him come to a halt in front a tall, regal blonde. His mother, Narcissa. She smiled weakly at him before she turned away. Draco took a few steps in her direction and then craned his head around to shoot Hermione one last reassuring look.

It had done nothing to settle her nerves.

She didn't hear from him once that summer.

Kingsley pressed for more information. "And what happened that summer?"

Draco took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before meeting the Minister of Magic's eyes. "I became a Death Eater."

* * *

 _ **A/N: I didn't want to keep you waiting too long after that horribly long break last time! Thank you sososo much to those of you who left a review, they made my day! I hope you enjoyed this. I've got another chapter almost entirely written and hopefully more on the way. I'm thinking there will be two or so more chapters like this. Please let me know if you liked it :)**_


	29. Thousands of Pieces

**_A/N: Sorry it's been so long and I'm sure none of you care but I have to tell someone!  
_**

 ** _I saw twenty one pilots live this week! I was two feet from Tyler and Josh and I have never fangirled so hard in my life 3 Their music and general adorkableness is just too much! It was the most amazing show I have ever been to! And I only know two other people who listen to them so all the feels are bottling up and I had to get them out somewhere_**

 ** _Anyway...read on, hope you like it :)_**

 _Thousands of Pieces_

Draco was in agony. White hot flames licked their way up his arm with every little movement. Despite his best efforts, his breath came in terrified pants, his mind dizzy from the pain. He had held a brave face, his pale features stoic and indifferent as he had left the ballroom. But now, locked away from prying eyes in his own bedroom, those pale features were streaked with bitter tears.

He couldn't bring himself to look at it. He didn't have to. He could feel it. He could feel the dark magic seeping into his very bones, the evil radiating into his soul. His remaining unblemished skin crawled from the feel of it, the significance of it. Draco knew that it was the only way, but he still felt that he had committed a grievous wrong. His very being was screaming at him for his foolishness, his naivety. Yes, he had done this for a girl, but he had also done this for himself.

The irony of his situation was almost too much for him to bear. The only way to be safe from what he was so petrified of was to become it. Despite Dumbledore's reassurances, Draco felt in that moment that he would never be forgiven. Even if the general public saw it in their hearts to do so, he wasn't so sure he could ever forgive himself.

Draco finally pried his eyes open. He stared numbly down at his burned forearm. It taunted him. He did not believe in it, but he would bear it until the end of his days.

* * *

Days before Draco had been branded with the Dark Mark, he had met with Severus Snape under the guise of learning some dark magic. Contrary to his worst fears, the Dark Lord had not yet made an appearance in his home. But he knew in his heart it was coming soon, and he need some reassurance that he was doing the right thing.

"The right thing?" Snape echoed in a distasteful voice, "There is no such thing. It will all end in misery for you, boy. Even if you succeed, even if we all succeed and he is defeated. They will never forgive you. They will never understand you."

Draco gulped, but he remained steadfast. "But yet you still do it."

Snape glowered down at him. "Of course, I still do it. Someone must. Just because it's hard, just because it's thankless, doesn't mean I should give up."

"So…I end up in misery. But I can keep her safe? Keep them safe?" Draco tried to clarify. Suddenly, Snape grew distant, his ink black eyes seeing something other than the dusty, cramped room before them. With a quiet sigh, the professor shook his head gravely. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that. I couldn't keep Li-her safe. I couldn't keep my Hermione Granger safe. Nor her family. Perhaps you will. But Draco, by doing this, you are trying. And that is more than I ever could have hoped for any godson of mine."

There was no hug, no further sentimental words at Snape's admission. But it gave Draco the strength to gather the courage he needed. He found himself nodding, though he couldn't say why. "I will," he swore resolutely, "I will succeed. Draco Malfoy is not the spoiled, vile brat he used to be. I will become a better man. A _good_ man."

Snape's disinterested face betrayed no emotion, but Draco knew the man well enough to know that he was proud of him.

"I just wish I didn't have to become the worst kind of man to do it," Draco murmured mournfully to himself as he followed the retreating raven cloak of his mentor.

* * *

"I expected some kind of task, Professor, but this? How in Merlin's name was I supposed to pull this off?" Draco bellowed in a terrified rage as he paced around the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore sat calmly in his chair with a slightly defeated Snape standing at his side. "I am _16_ years old and the most unhinged dark wizard in all of history wants _me_ , of all people, to kill Albus Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore folded his hands, or at least attempted to before resting his useless charred hand on the desk in front of him. "Draco, my boy, sit down, won't you?"

"Sit down? _Sit down?_ " Draco cried in disbelief. "Did you not hear what I just said? I'm supposed to kill you!"

"Yes, yes, I know," Dumbledore insisted, "In fact, I've known for some weeks now."

At that, Draco halted his frantic pacing. Before he went into another rage about being kept in the dark, Snape spoke up. "Draco, you agreed to this. You took the Mark because you wanted to help. You knew the risks. Now you have to except them."

"But murder? And one of the most powerful wizards alive?" Draco exclaimed. "He just wants to kill me! You know he does. This is all a game to him. Punish my father for his failures by killing me. Because that's exactly what will happen because I won't do it."

"Yes, you will, Draco," Dumbledore said fiercely. Draco whipped his head to him, affronted by the bold statement. "I'm am a dying man, my dear boy. You have seen my hand. It's the mark of a curse, one I unwittingly brought upon myself. I have but a year at most. If my death can be as climactic as Voldemort seems to think, then it should be. Just in a way that benefits us."

Draco shook his head in utter shock. "Sir, forgive me, but are you _mad_? You're talking about your own death as if it's a mere trinket to give away."

"I have lived a long life. And now it's coming to an end. I have had plenty of time to learn to accept that fact. Now, I know this will pain you. This will strip you of your innocence. This will bring hatred upon you. But if we should succeed, the world will be yours, Draco. Whether you choose to lead a quiet life in solitude or take up the mantle in rebuilding this damaged world. But the task you have been given…it will change everything. You must do it. You _will_ do it. Do I make myself clear?"

Draco kicked one of the chairs he had previously been offered across the room. He had another minute or so of childish destruction before he collapsed onto a chair. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. They rose and fell in a shuddered breath before he raised his face to the brilliant blue eyes of the man he would never understand.

"I must do it," Draco repeated weakly, "I _will_ do it."

* * *

Draco had not been looking forward to the start of his sixth year. His impossible task aside, he wasn't sure he was strong enough to stay away from Hermione. That had been almost harder to agree to than taking the life of his Headmaster. He had grown to need her like a drug. Not only could he not speak to her, he had to make her once again believe that he despised everything she was.

Not communicating once throughout his entire summer of Death Eater hell had nearly driven him mad. But it had been easy, he supposed. Certainly easier as there was no chance of running into her. Large as the castle was, and thousands of secret hiding places it offered, there seemed to be nowhere to run from Hermione Granger.

He had managed to steer clear of her rather successfully for the first week or so. But he had run into her, quite literally, when he was headed to Potions. He was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, his childhood bodyguards that he despised sharing air with. Despite his disdain for them, they had proved to be excellent Hermione repellent, so he had been spending an excessive amount of time with them.

"Watch where you're going, Mudblood," he spat viciously, channeling his self-hatred toward her in an effort to convince her. She paused her frantic scrambling for her scattered books when she registered the venom in his voice. Sure, he had kept up his taunts after they had become friends, but they were never said with any conviction. His heart shattered at the hurt in her eyes. "What? Not so chatty without your two bumbling buffoons to protect you? I'd say you're all bark and no bite, but it seems you haven't got much bark either."

With a clipped order, Crabbe and Goyle were on his heels as he strode haughtily away from the confused witch still collecting her books. He forced himself to look straight ahead, not show a falter in his step.

Her wounded brown eyes haunted him in his sleep for days.

* * *

Draco panicked when he felt himself get tugged into one of the hundreds of random broom closets that always seemed to pop up around the castle whenever a serious conversation needed to be had. He knew who was pulling him in and that was precisely why he was panicking. He couldn't be alone with her face to face. How was he supposed to hide from her scrutinizing gaze? She would see right through him.

The curly haired witch was in a right fury when he finally dared to look at her. She had her slender hands perched on her hips and a vicious gleam in her eye. He hardly had any warning before she started to beat him. "What in Merlin's name is bloody wrong with you?" she demanded, "Not a word all summer and then those horrible words yesterday!"

Recovering quickly, he snatch her wrist before she could slam her fist into him again. Steeling himself, he threatened, "Don't you dare touch me, you filthy Mudblood."

Hermione recoiled from him, her anger diminishing as she took in his words. "Draco, we're alone. You can drop the act. It's not funny."

"You think I'm trying to amuse _you_? Muggle scum? I think not," he sneered.

Curse those great doe eyes of hers. They would be his undoing. "D-draco?"

"You have no right to call me that. As if we were equals," he laughed cruelly. "Never in your wildest dreams."

"I don't understand," Hermione huffed, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. It made him want to wither and die right on the spot. She had once said that he was the one who had never made her cry. It destroyed him to ruin that truth. "I t-thought we were fr-"

"Friends?" he finished in fake amusement, "I admit, I had a lapse in judgment for a brief moment. But I'm cured of that, don't you worry. My venture into insanity was corrected this summer, and I assure you I won't be led astray again."

"Venture into insanity?" Hermione echoed in a tiny voice. Her usually bubbly features had burst into something much more somber than he ever wished to see. She snaked her arms around her middle, eyes dropping to the floor as she angled herself away from him. It looked to him like she was trying to hold herself together. He hated that he was the one who had torn her apart.

He glared coolly down at her until she spoke again. Her voice was quiet, but there was a slow burning fury in her voice when she said, "Fine, you supremacist prick. If that's what you think of our friendship than you can go. But you can live with knowing that this-this moment will be one you will never forget. One you will regret for the rest of your days. Because this is the moment when you decide that you are going to lose everything. Everything for the irrational ravings of a lunatic. So, go!"

And with that, her speech that utterly shattered him, she roughly shoved him from the tiny closet and slammed the door on his fumbling figure. He slumped against it until he hit the floor. As he rested his head against the ancient wood, her sobs reached his tortured ears. They were heart wrenching, made only worse by the fact that he had caused them. It took every shred of self-control not to give it all up right then just to stop her from crying. He had to remind himself that it was the only way to keep her safe.

Safe, he thought, as he stayed to offer some silent comfort, only the door and hundreds of dangerous people separating them.

Safe, he thought, but in thousands of pieces.

* * *

Despite his very convincing act, he only managed to keep Hermione in the dark until November. While he had thought Hermione had deemed him a lost cause and considered him a dark stain on her otherwise spotless reputation, he realized he should have known better.

With the weight of his task crushing him and the loss of Hermione's friendship tearing him to pieces, Draco had stopped taking care of himself. He no longer had the appetite fitting for a teenage boy and he was a stranger to the four poster bed tucked away in the dungeons. He kept up appearances well enough, but he had started to avoid the mirrors. Draco couldn't bear to see the miserable wretch that greeted him there.

Unbeknownst to Draco, while he had stopped paying attention to himself, Hermione had taken up the mantle. He knew that Potter suspected him of being a Death Eater. And of course, the Boy-Who-Live was right. All he was left to do was wonder if Hermione believed him. The boy didn't have long to ponder it. Hermione had refused to let him go.

"Draco."

The boy whipped his head up from the book he was pretending to read. Thousands of thoughts were racing through his head as his eyes stared blankly at the words. How to fix the cabinet. How to kill Dumbledore. How not to jump off the Astronomy Tower to end it all.

It was probably his overwhelmed mind that forgot not to respond with, "Granger."

Hermione sank into the seat across from him. He watched her warily. He opened his mouth with no idea of what might come out, but she beat him to it. "Before you say something awful, let me talk. I don't know what's going on with you but-"

"But nothing, Granger," Draco snapped, rising abruptly to his feet. He was too tired to fight her off. He needed to escape. But of course, she followed his movements. Practically running after him to keep up, Hermione continued anyway. "I don't know what's going on, but I want to help you. I know you can't have changed. We were so close."

"No, we weren't. It was nothing," he argued.

"No, it wasn't," Hermione yelled angrily. She grabbed ahold of his sleeve and wrench it toward her in an effort to spin him around to face her. With more force applied than she planned, she stumbled back with his ripped sleeve in her hand. He spun around in frustration to scold her, but froze when he saw her expression.

"N-no," she breathed, her beautiful eyes locked steadfastly on the black ink marring his forearm. He hastened to tuck it against his stomach, out of sight from her innocent eyes. But it was too late. " _How could you?"_ she screeched in outrage, backing away from him in fear, "How could you, Draco?"

Draco's heart had climbed its way into his throat and rendered him speechless. He had forgotten how to even breathe when he saw the look of utter betrayal on her face. She started to back away faster, turning to run. Seeing that, Draco spurred himself into action. He lunged at her, foolishly frightening her more, and dragged her to him in a desperate hug. She struggled to break free but he held his grip and buried his face into the crook of her neck.

Her struggles fell still when her frightened mind registered the fact that the boy holding her hostage was sobbing into her shoulder. The sound was shattering. Despite the fresh mark on his arm, Hermione found herself slipping her arms around his waist.

"Draco?"

Another sob. Then. "Forgive me, Hermione."

The combination of his sobs and his plea had Hermione holding him as tight as she could. "Oh, Draco, what have you done?"

* * *

"Congratulations, Draco, you managed to keep your secret for an astounding two and a half months," Snape said dryly. Draco had the grace to look sheepish. He hung his head shamefully.

Hermione couldn't resist. "Sir, it wasn't his fault. As you well know, I don't know when to leave well enough alone."

"Yes, Miss Granger, I'm…painfully…aware."

Dumbledore, in the meantime was watching the two students quite contently. When the bickering had reached an end, he finally decided to speak up. "Severus, perhaps this is a happy opportunity."

"I can hardly see how, sir," Snape said.

Dumbledore smiled warmly at his students before saying, "Miss Granger is a brilliant young witch. Surely, the two of them working together would prove easier on Draco. He is too young to deal with the weight of his task on his own. And it certainly seems that they can't stay apart despite our best efforts. If not, then they may work together. After all, there has been no head way made on the cabinet."

"The cabinet, sir?" Hermione wondered.

"A Vanishing Cabinet. Its twin is in Borgin & Burkes. Draco must fix it so that he can let Death Eaters into Hogwarts on the night he is to kill me."

Hermione didn't even realize she had reached for Draco's hand. He laced his fingers through hers so absently that their professors would correctly guess that he wasn't aware of his actions either.

"And-and I can help?"

"You may, if you wish. But you first must consider what it will do to your conscience, Miss Granger. Draco has made his choice from the few grim options he has. You must now make yours. Whatever you choose, I am afraid there is the matter of keeping this secret. It has the capability of changing the outcome of the coming war. It is not something to be taken lightly, so I won't."

"What are you saying, Professor?" Draco wondered.

Dumbledore heaved a great sigh, something Draco had never seen him do. "I am saying that this must stay between the two of you. Your friendship. Your mission. Your actions. Everything. No one must know."

Hermione guessed his meaning first. "You-you mean an Unbreakable Vow."

"I'm afraid so."

* * *

"Granger, you can't possibly expect me to let you help with this," Draco repeated as the two sixth years stood in front of the intricate mahogany door that led into the Room of Requirement. "You're a member of the Order of the Phoenix for Merlin's sake, aren't you? The successful completion of this task will result in letting Death Eaters inside the castle!"

Hermione, however, was too stubborn to accept his rational insistence. She rolled her eyes to the heavens before sighing exasperatedly, "Yes, Draco, I know. You've only reminded me fifty times in just our walk here. You're letting me help you and that's final."

"No," he refused, shaking his head adamantly. "I can't let you. You would never forgive yourself."

Her resolve was unshakable. "Whether I help you or not, this is happening. But because you decided what is right and what is wrong, we'll know that they are coming. We'll be able to protect ourselves, Draco. And maybe I won't forgive myself if something does happen. But you won't be able to either. It's a burden we'll both have to bear, but maybe together it won't be so horrendous."

"Curse your bleeding Gryffindor heart," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Fine. If you're so willing to throw your soul to the devil, by all means, follow me."

The Vanishing Cabinet rose ominously above the clutter surrounding it, Hermione's eyes instantly drawn to it. A shudder rang down her spine. As they set to work on the blasted thing, she began to understand the stress and fear that had been leaving Draco looking like he was walking corpse. The weight of it nearly crushed her every time she joked around with her completely oblivious friends.

There was never a question that Hermione Granger would play a vital role in the war. Draco just felt guilty that her role was morphing into something much greyer than what might have been expected. He could see it was tearing her up, helping the other side, even if it was solely to benefit her own. She tried to hide it from him at first, but neither of them were very good at masking their fears around each other.

Draco would forever berate himself for dragging her into his war. But he would never forgive himself for knowing he could never have let her walk away.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Please let me know if you like it! Reviews are always appreciated :)**_

 _ **And remember...STAY ALIVE frens**_ l-/


	30. Nothing on Love

**_A/N: So, I kind of rushed through the end to get this to you guys. I start traveling for our shows starting tomorrow and I felt guilty leaving you guys hanging. Hope you enjoy it!_**

 _Chapter Thirty  
Nothing on Love_

Draco burst into the abandoned girls' bathroom in a frantic rage. He barely even noticed Moaning Myrtle peek over her stall to look at him curiously. Even she must have realized something was wrong because she sank back down and kept her moaning unusually quiet.

"You blithering idiot," he scolded himself as he caught himself on the edge of the porcelain sink. His knuckles turned white with the death grip he had on it. He bent his head shamefully, crippling despair running through him. He couldn't stop his body from shaking any more than he could hold the desperate tears back. "You absolute, raving idiot."

He lifted his head to stare himself hard in the eye. He met a hardened silver that shook him to the core. The blonde could hardly recognize himself. He looked worse for the wear, certainly, his skin nearly translucent, dark bags beneath his dead eyes. But otherwise, his outer appearance had hardly changed. What he couldn't comprehend was that the person behind it all was so drastically different.

If he hadn't taken that risk, if he hadn't convinced himself to talk to Hermione, he had no doubt that he would be in the very same position. Crying over a sink in the girls' bathroom wishing he'd just offed himself when he had the chance. It nearly paralyzed him with fear to think about what his life would be like right then without the reassuring presence of Hermione Granger. He was absolutely sure he wouldn't have managed to survive.

Which only proved to make himself more miserable because she was the very reason he was in such a state of despair.

They had worked on the cabinet. They had joked around. They had studied. They had talked. They had almost kissed.

 _They had almost kissed._

And he would have gone through with it. He knew that without a doubt. He wanted nothing more than to taste those soft pink lips of hers. Draco couldn't remember when they had gotten so close. When their voices had gotten so low. When his heart had started racing. But all of a sudden, her breath was hot on his lips and she was _so close_.

Too close.

Draco had seen those beautiful honey brown eyes flutter shut and lost it. He just barely felt the ghost of her lips on his when he turned his head sharply to the right. Her lips landed softly on the corner of his jaw instead. He could still feel them on his skin. She hadn't pulled away, but he knew by the slump of her shoulders that she was disappointed.

"We can't," he had breathed. He turned his head back to her, resting his forehead against hers. It wasn't lost on him how easily he could close the space between them, but he resisted using all the restraint he possessed. "I want to, Hermione. Merlin knows I want to. But we can't."

Hermione had slowly snaked her arms around his neck, holding him in place. "I-I know."

"I'm sorry," Draco sighed regretfully.

"But if things were different?"

Draco relished the warmth of her presence for a second longer before he broke away from her. He had to get away. Her intoxicating smell and her proximity were doing his head in. He scrambled to his feet, anxiety setting in. With one last longing look at her, Draco shook his head. "They _aren't_."

And then he had ended up in the girls' loo like the spineless coward he had long since been branded.

But of course, he was never allowed to wallow in self-pity for long. Draco knew the moment his eyes met a brilliant green that nothing good was to come.

As Draco blacked out from the pain of Harry Potter's dark spell, he wished he wasn't always right.

* * *

Draco woke to a searing pain and a soothing touch. Complexed by the opposing sensations, he warred his way through his groggy haze and blinked his eyes open. He was met with the dark of the infirmary. He gathered that it was night and that he was in a ridiculous amount of pain. His chest felt like it was being torn apart with every breath he took.

"Dr-Draco?" a hopeful voice called gently. He struggled to move his head to find the owner of the voice. He could make out that bushy mane of curls in even the darkest of nights. "Granger," he rasped through a horribly dry throat. She made a sound of immense relief, her head hanging as she let out a heavy sigh.

"Draco," she breathed, her head rising once again. She leaned onto his bed, her face close enough to his that he could make out the worry in her eyes. "I was so afraid. I ran into Harry just after and-and I was so scared. He thought he had killed you! Oh Merlin, Draco, I can't even think about it!"

Draco tried to offer a smile, but couldn't quite bring himself to. "He probably would have done us a favor if he had."

Her glare chastised him sufficiently. "Don't you dare joke like that. You might think the world would be better off without you, but it wouldn't be. _I_ wouldn't be."

"Hermione," he said gently, "I never should have let you get so attached to me. It's only going to hurt you in the end, knowing me."

"You sound like I'm just some silly fourth year you've been leading on," Hermione sniffed indignantly. Draco shook his head. "You're so much more than that." Then, in a low voice, he admitted, "I shouldn't have let myself get so attached to you either."

Hermione focused her gaze on their entwined fingers. Her thumb rubbing soothing circles on it was the soft touch he had woken to. "I know you said that things _aren't_ different. But just for a minute-just one minute, Draco, tell me. If things _were_ different-if there wasn't a war calling us to opposing sides…"

"Yes. A thousand bloody times yes."

He felt her press her lips to the back of his hand. A drop of water splashed down beside them and trickled its way down his arm. Tears of his own pooled in his eyes so he snapped them shut, not wanting her to see.

Draco blamed the pain for making him delirious enough to admit that out loud to her. He supposed it wasn't exactly a secret. She knew him too well not know most of what he was feeling. But they had been skirting around the fact that their feelings of friendship had been steadily growing into something more with each passing day. They both knew that it was too dangerous of a venture with everything else they were embroiled in. But that didn't stop them from wishing things were different.

* * *

Harry had found his way to a seat not far from the boy whose memories were in question. And thank Merlin for that, because the Boy-Who-Lived definitely needed to be sitting as he watched his perception of his school years ripped to shreds. With every heartfelt emotion and touch shared between the Draco and Hermione in the movie-like memories, Harry reached previously unknown levels of confusion.

He no longer felt betrayed. While Hermione's omission of any and all things relating to her relationship with Draco Malfoy certainly should have, Harry couldn't bring himself to hate her. Their unexpected connection was, and he admitted to himself, tragically beautiful. He had grown up during the war. He no longer found himself hung up on petty school boy grudges. How could he after a war that was about so much more?

More so than even his love for Hermione, it was Draco's character that rendered him unable to feel slighted. The boy he had pretended to be those last few dreadful years was not truly him. Who Harry had thought to be selfish, arrogant, and cruel was actually selfless (when it came to his mother and Hermione), terrified, and a teenage spy for the Order of the Phoenix.

And as uncomfortable as it made him, there was something else he had to admit.

Draco Malfoy was smart enough to love Hermione unconditionally. Something his best friend had failed to do for years.

He tore his gaze from the pale boy in the golden chair. His snake manacles writhed with every breath, Draco's eyes clenched shut, his face wincing in strain from the memories. It was too much for him. So instead, he turned his sights to another pale blonde. Cassie's silver eyes caught him with a worried frown. He should have known she'd have found her way there. He couldn't be bothered to care how. Just her presence sent a wave of calm over him. His face a little less grim, Harry returned his focus to Draco's memories.

 _"_ _It's tonight,"_ memory Draco whispered urgently, _"Hermione, it's happening tonight. Dumbledore told me to let them in tonight."_

 _Hermione gasped, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. "No, no, it's too soon. It can't-you-I-I-"_

 _Draco settled his hands on her shaking shoulders. "We haven't got the time to argue. It's happening whether we like it or not. The minute I leave you, I'm on my way to let them in. Dumbledore-he told me to use the time to…say good-bye."_

 _Honey brown eyes filled with unshed tears. Hermione recoiled visibly from his words. She shook her head, "No, not good-bye. What do you mean?"_

 _"_ _That this is good-bye," he answered gravely, his gaze slipping to the floor. "For now."_

 _But his added words meant nothing. His tone made it clear that he worried it would mean good-bye for good. It was a thought neither wanted to consider a possibility._

 _"_ _Oh, Draco!" Hermione cried, a tear spilling over as she launched herself at him. He stumbled but returned her hug with an equal fervor, burying his face in against the crook of her neck. "What if I never see you again?"_

 _The blonde didn't answer right away. But then, words whispered against her cheek. "What if you_ do _?"_

 _It struck the both of them that his question was much more complicated than hers._

 _"_ _Hermione, even if we do both survive this, I won't ever be the same person. I won't be that silly little arrogant boy you befriended. The things I'm going to have to do-"_

 _"_ _Stay alive," she cut in urgently, "Stay alive for me, Draco. No matter what happens, do that for me, yeah?"_

 _The faux Death Eater pulled away from her just enough to look her in the eyes. With a broken smile, he said wistfully, "If things were different…"_

 _Hermione's tears burst into heart wrenching sobs. Draco collected her up in his arms and shed a tear himself as he cherished their last moments together._

George shook his head in disbelief. He had known, obviously, that Draco Malfoy was in love with Hermione. Otherwise he would never have helped him find her before she took off to Australia. And he also knew that things between them must have been complicated with the war and all. But until then, the ginger hadn't truly thought about how deadly their relationship could have been, how terrified they must have been. How strong that love must have been for them to have gone through everything they did to keep it alive.

From the corner of his eye, George could see Cassie trying to wipe away the silent tears streaming down her face. He couldn't even fathom the roller coaster she was on. She was watching her brother grow up in the shadow of an oppressive, horrifyingly dark wizard. With the mother that abandoned her unknowingly sitting with little more than an arm's length from her.

He felt for her as Draco had to relive his time as a Death Eater, his childhood home taken over by a vicious madman. The torture and murder he had to witness first hand had Cassie burying her face against George's chest. He wrapped a comforting arm around her as he found himself unable to look away.

Countless Muggle raids revealed Draco's desperate attempts to fake as many murders and tortures as he could all while risking his life to usher them to safety. Not all could be saved, and there were some dark nights in the Malfoy Manor for him. The utter anguish and fear and revulsion of his memories was so vivid, so alive, that the entirety of the court room could feel it in their very bones.

Hermione, sat with Harry down by Draco, was in a similar position to Cassie with George. Other than the obvious, George wondered what had her biting her lip as she tried not to cry.

 _"_ _I-I can't be sure."_

George groaned aloud, "Oh, Merlin."

Cassie made to pull away at the sound of his voice, but George had the smarts to keep his hold on her. He held her to his chest and whispered down, "You shouldn't watch this, Cassie."

As Hermione's haunting screams echoed throughout the deathly silent room, George shook his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Merlin, _no one_ should watch this."

The wizarding world had known that their beloved war heroine had been tortured at the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange. But until then, it hadn't occurred to George that the only people alive that had actually _seen_ her tortured were Draco and Narcissa Malfoy.

It was not a sight that she ever should have had to share with the world. Despite the physical and mental strain he was under, Draco managed to hold his eyes open long enough to look at Hermione. George couldn't make out the individual words, but even he could tell it was a guilty apology. The brunette smiled sadly, proud and brave enough to let the world see her at her weakest if it meant saving him.

As hard as he tried to look away, a low whisper from memory Draco begged for George's attention.

" _Dobby? Dobby, I need you. I need you to save them. Please."_

And not seconds later, Harry and Ron had burst into the room, an ever faithful house elf slipping through unnoticed, a mischievous twinkle in his large golden eyes.

With the Golden Trio, Luna Lovegood, Ollivander, and Griphook escaped, it came as no shock to the court that Voldemort would be in a proper murderous rage. The result was three butchered Snatchers, a blown apart ballroom, and the most excruciatingly violent pain Draco had ever felt in his young life.

It seemed there was no personal anger towards the young boy that made him the Dark Lord's torture victim. Draco had been standing off to the side trying desperately to disappear into himself and keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged. Perhaps he had seemed to quiet. Too weak.

The audience was so enthralled by the horror of Draco's vivid memories that they failed to notice the anguish of the actual boy in the golden chair. A broken scream from the once prideful and private Draco Malfoy had Kingsley's deep booming voice shouting, "Stop the spell! Stop it right this second!"

The memories instantly dissolved and Draco slumped back into the chair, his breath shallow and quick, silver eyes wild.

The court had fallen into a hush, disturbed by the torture that they had just witnessed. If Hermione's had left them unsettled than Draco's at the hand of Voldemort himself had left them scarred.

"P-please, sir," Draco gasped, "Please don't stop now. I just want this to be over."

Kinglsey looked down on the pale teen's face with sympathy. For once, it didn't frustrate Draco. Sympathy in the court was a good thing. Even if he felt he had offered up every shred of dignity for it. "Son, I understand. But I do believe it would be unsafe to push you further at this point in time. So, you were…tortured by Voldemort." The Minister of Magic winced as he watched all color drain from Draco's face. He nodded stiffly, eager to move on from that. "What then?"

"Well, my mother had to nurse me back to health. That was just days before the final battle, as I'm sure you remember. I didn't do much of anything but stay in my bed. I knew that they had all made it to safety with Dobby, though he himself didn't make it," Draco explained with a heavy sigh. The emotion in his voice revealed his sadness over the elf's death. "Hermione gave me one of those charmed galleons that the Order had. She told me they were safe, so I told her what was in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault."

"And the final battle? What was your role?"

"It was agreed that my appearance was too recognizable some weeks before. I was too likely to be hurt by the Order and by the Death Eaters if they'd seen my betrayal. Severus Snape ensured that I would have a polyjuice potion for such an event. It almost worked. I was able to fight with my fellow classmates until a stray hex meant to reveal Disillusion charms reversed it. I was too tied up fighting to drink more for some time and it became obvious to the Death Eaters that I was working against them," Draco continued tiredly.

Hermione clung to Harry as Draco told his story. She, of course, knew it all by heart now, but it still affected her so strongly. Before he had had time to drink more polyjuice, she had quite literally run into Draco. She was searching frantically for Harry, her arms full of basilisk fangs. They had crashed to the floor with a tremendous clatter, but in that moment she caught sight of platinum blonde, her whole world was solely the boy before her.

* * *

 _"_ _You're alive! Oh Merlin, you're alive!" she cried, not caring who might see as she threw her arms around his neck. Draco crushed her to him, his crippling fear suddenly overwhelmed by the joy he felt at seeing her safe._

 _"_ _Hermione, I'm so sor-"_

 _But she shook her head and cut him off, "It's not your fault. I know you saved us. D-dobby, he told me before he…"_

 _"_ _I should have done more! I should have stopped her, I should have-" he rushed frantically, searching her soft brown eyes for any sign of hate towards him. All he found was a sad smile. "Draco, you did what you could. If you'd have stopped them, they would have killed you. We both knew neither of us would come out of this unscathed."_

 _Draco let out a breath and just stared at her, disbelieving that she was really in his arms after the worst year of his life. Seeing her, feeling her, it made it all worth it. "Hermione, I-I can't even tell you what it means to see you…"_

 _She was about to open her mouth to speak when a tremor ran through the stone floor beneath them, a deafening crash accompanying it. They stared at each other with stricken faces, the serenity of their moment over._

 _"_ _I have to go, Draco," she rushed regretfully, "I have to get these fangs to Harry."_

 _"_ _I know, I know," he said sad. "Stay safe._ Please _."_

 _She nodded slowly, snatched up the fangs and made to leave reluctantly. She hadn't gotten more than a step or two when she felt arms snake around her waist from behind. His breath was hot in her ear as he breathlessly whispered, "If you still want things to be different when all of this is over, meet me under the Whomping Willow, yeah?"_

 _Hermione allowed herself to sink back against his chest for just a second. "Things_ will _be different," she insisted with a quiet confidence that soothed his nerves. She felt the brush of his lips on her neck before he disappeared into the fray._

 _The following morning she was told he had been killed._

* * *

Draco finished the rest of his story in a rush, eager for it to be over. "Fenrir Greyback had unfortunately bested me, and I'm afraid I blacked out before I could identify the Aurors that rescued me. The polyjuice didn't wear off for some time after that which I suppose is the reason no one tried to apprehend me then. I came too, found that Hermione had disappeared, and set out to look for her. When I found her, we agreed to go to Australia to find her parents. We traveled there by Muggle means, not to avoid a magical trace, but because we were both rather shaken by what magic had recently done to us.

"I understand that I have done some unforgiveable things," he concluded, "But they were done at the behest of the only two men I have ever trusted, Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore. I respect that there will be consequences, and I accept them fully. But I do wish that you will consider everything, not only the bad.

"I may be cursed with this blasted mark for the rest of my life, and I know that people will look on it with revulsion and distrust. But I can honestly say that it will only ever show me how far I have come and that, in the end, fear has nothing on love."

Hermione's heart swelled with pride at the words of the boy she loved. Her eyes were trained on him even as Kingsley spoke, "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, for your cooperation."

He cleared his throat before he continued, "Draco Malfoy, you were charged with being a known and active Death Eater, fleeing the country to evade arrest, use of Unforgiveables, supplying Death Eaters with an entrance into Hogwarts, the kidnapping of Hermione Jean Granger, and the murder of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

"As Mr. Potter so politely reminded us, the death of Albus Dumbledore was by the hand of Severus Snape, so we are dismissing that charge outright. As for your remaining offences, the Wizengamot will now make our final decision.

"If those who find Draco Malfoy guilty of all charges will raise their hands," Kingsley announced. Draco winced at the numbers of hands that went up. He turned away to focus on Hermione's reassuring face. Even Harry Potter was trying to smile at him encouragingly. "And those who find Draco Malfoy innocent of all charges?"

But Cassie never heard the verdict. Because as the court room burst into a raucous roar, all the young blonde heard was a hauntingly familiar voice in her ear. She was suddenly six again. The nervous tremor in the woman's voice shook her to the core.

"C-cassie?"

* * *

 _ **A/N: I felt the need to post before I left because I felt awful leaving you guys in suspense. I realize now I've only made it worse, but such is life haha. Please, please, please let me know if you like it! Reviews from you guys are absolute gold to me! You can thank Miya and Alex Slytherin Black for theirs because their reviews inspired me to finish this up and post it. Thank you so much for the motivation, guys!**_


	31. Bittersweet Reunions

**_A/N: SORRY! I've been at shows the past few weeks and there has been no time to write! But since you've all been dying for more, this chapter is the longest one yet! Thank you a thousand times to everyone who reviewed and favorited this story! It means the world to me!_**

 _Chapter Thirty One  
Bittersweet Reunions_

The Daily Prophet would never again sell as many prints as it did the issue following the trial of the notorious Death Eater Draco Malfoy, killer of Albus Dumbledore, kidnapper of Hermione Granger, torturer and murderer of muggles. If they had thought _that_ would sell papers, they never dreamed of what the demand would be when the headline read:

 _ **Draco Malfoy, Teenage Spy for the Order of the Phoenix, Acquitted of All Charges!**_

Because, indeed, in the most unexpected turn of events, the hated boy turned out to be just the opposite of everything he had been accused of. Though many in the Wizengamot had voted against him out of sheer spite for the name Malfoy, it was undeniable that those who remained truly unbiased could not charge the boy.

Draco had gaped at the Minister of Magic in utter disbelief, unable to move even as the golden snakes restraining his arms retreated into the chair. The court room burst into a cacophony of cheers and boos but he heard none of it. He hadn't even regained control of himself before he was being pulled to his feet.

Warm, familiar arms locked themselves around his neck in a desperate hug. Coming, somewhat, to his senses, Draco snaked his arms around the tiny waist and buried his face into the mane of chocolate brown hair he thought he would lose forever.

"You're free!" Hermione cried into his shoulder, "You're free, Draco!"

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered, the noise from the maddening crowd around them still outside of their tiny world. He pulled back just enough to look her in the eye. Draco cradled her face in his hands, unashamed to show such unadulterated affection in the public eye after such a day. He pressed a lingering, chaste kiss to her lips, his forehead resting against hers when he released them.

"It was worth it, Hermione," he said to her, his voice low but thick with emotion. "The fear, the heartache, the torture, the lies, the sadness. All of it. I couldn't ever regret it because it all brought me to you. Life wouldn't be worth living without you by my side."

Hermione laughed happily, wiping tears from her flooded eyes. She was trembling, he realized, from the stress of the trial. It was safe to say that both of their nerves were frayed, but neither cared. They were together. And it seemed that this time that they would be able to stay that way.

"I guess winning trials just makes you outrageously cheesy," she sniffed, a brilliant smile on her lips. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't argue. "Maybe. Maybe it's just you that brings it out in me."

"Draco?" she asked suddenly. He raised an eyebrow in response. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"More than anything," he rushed, unafraid to show her his desperation.

It seemed odd to him, to still feel the urge to keep things private. After a trial like that, everyone and their mother would know most of his deepest secrets and darkest moments. He had been exposed, raw and mercilessly. He was comfortable enough in what he had done for the war that he still held a sense of dignity, but it wasn't hard to admit that he was just barely grasping onto the last shred of it.

Really, they both should have known that with both of their highly infamous lives that the press would only avoid them for long. They had their time alone together, and now it was time for them to step out of the dark and into the spotlight. It seemed inevitable now. Draco supposed that at least now they wouldn't have to go through the trouble of telling anyone else they were a couple. Not when he knew it would be front page news in the next paper.

But that was something he could worry about later. For now, he was content to ignore the desperate questions, the shouts, the camera flashes. The young man simply focused his silver eyes on the witch of his dreams and let her gentle hand guide him through the masses.

* * *

"C-Cassie?" Narcissa Malfoy dared to dream.

The pretty, young blond girl seated beside the Weasley boy who had been with Harry Potter kept calling her attention away from her son. She supposed she should have felt awful, knowing he might be sent off to Azkaban like his dreadful father. But something about the girl kept drawing her eyes.

It was the Malfoy blonde hair that caught her eye first. She couldn't see the girl's face until she turned to talk to the Weasley boy. She thought she remembered him to be George, but she was never sure with the brood of red heads. The platinum blonde hair, the piercing silver eyes, the pale skin. There were so many subtler indicators.

But she had shaken it off early on, knowing it couldn't be the daughter she had smuggled away. She had been a Squib, her darling Cassie, raised by Muggles. There wasn't a chance in the world that she was in the Ministry of Magic. She dismissed it as her ever constant yearning for her long lost daughter in a moment where she was afraid she would lose her son, too.

Her beautiful, incredible son. The boy she thought she had lost to his father. To his cruel philosophies and dark interests. But then, suddenly, he changed. Not outwardly, no. But a mother knew. A mother could see the uncertainty in his eyes when his father berated Muggles. The discomfort in his actions when he learned dark spells.

It hadn't taken her long to figure out that this change was brought on by a girl. It wasn't until he became a Death Eater, to her utter horror, that she learned who the girl was.

"Hermione Jean Granger," he had said as if that explained everything. She had been braced for him to spout some highly bigoted slur against the girl she had heard Lucius complain so much about. "There's something I can do that just might save her and some of the people she loves."

"Oh?" she had wondered cautiously, confused beyond belief, afraid of what her only son was planning.

"Mother," he said insistently, "I _have_ to keep you two safe. So I need you to just go along with whatever happens. Okay?"

It nearly killed her, but she agreed, "Okay."

He had come back to her with a Dark Mark burning his snow white skin.

So, it had often made her wonder if Cassie was actually better off. Magicless and surrounded by Muggles, but surely she was loved. Surely she was happy and safe. Draco, bless him, had done her proud. He had turned into a wonderful young man, fiercely loyal and terribly brave. But the circumstances that pushed him to be so were horrendous. He had faced constant disapproval, beatings, and had bigoted agendas shoved down his throat. And that was before the crippling fear and torture that the Dark Lord had brought into their lives.

As she watched her son strain against the memory spell in front of hundreds of vicious spectators, she finally had an answer. Her darling daughter probably hated her, wherever she was, but with any luck, she didn't even know what a Death Eater was.

Still, the more Narcissa tried to convince herself it wasn't her daughter sitting just feet from her, the more the thought came to mind. It was the Weasley boy, she was pretty confident it was George, the lone twin, who confirmed her wild suspicions.

"I-I can't watch this," the blonde cried, "What if they find him guilty? I still barely understand what happened!"

The red head kept a reassuring arm around her and bent down so she could hear him over the dull roar of the court room. "It'll be fine. It has to be. For him and Hermione. It _has_ to be. Draco's a good man. You don't have to understand everything that happened. Just know that he _is_ good. Merlin, Cassie, your brother's more of a Gryffindor than there ever was."

And that was when the Wizengamot made their decision and Narcissa Malfoy broke. She uttered her daughter's name aloud for the first time in over a decade.

The eyes that slowly turned to take her in were the very same silver that met her in the mirror every morning. An indecipherable look formed in those eyes and pale pink lips tightened into a thin, firm line. A deep breath was taken and released. She was gorgeous, Narcissa realized with a rush of pride. That pride immediately gave way to overwhelming guilt as she stood from her seat, George's arm slipping off her shoulders.

Narcissa stared up at her long lost daughter in absolute awe, tears threatening to spill in the ever stoic woman's eyes. "It is you, Cassie, isn't it?"

"Cassiopeia is dead, don't you remember, _Mother_?" Cassie spat in response.

George looked down at his freshly polished shoes as if they were suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. He had been hoping against all hope that such a confrontation would not come to be on his watch. But of course, he had no such luck.

So, instead of waiting for any further icy exchanges, George rose to his feet and suggested, "Cassie, why don't we go congratulate Draco? And Hermione. Or go anywhere that's not here."

"Please," Narcissa pleaded, jumping up from her seat. She reached a shaking hand out to her daughter. "Cassie, please, there's so much I want to say to you."

But Cassie didn't want to hear it. Like a deer in the headlights, George's friend stared blankly at the elder witch before fleeing abruptly. George and Narcissa watched her retreating figure in silence. When she had disappeared into the crowd, George turned to the Malfoy matriarch. "I should follow her."

Narcissa nodded numbly, eyes still staring at the last space she had seen the daughter she had believed to be forever lost to her. "She's-she's-" But she couldn't find the words.

"Beautiful. Sweet. Fiercely loyal. Possibly in love with Harry Potter," George offered with an awkward smile. The blonde haired witch turned her silver eyes to him at the sound of his voice. He couldn't pretend that he didn't know the story behind Cassie's departure from the Malfoy family, but he couldn't find it in himself to hate her for what had happened. It may have seemed cold and unloving, but Narcissa did what she could to keep her daughter alive. He knew what it was to lose family, but the witch before him had to live with knowing she was alive but never see her. Never know her.

"Give her time," he suggested kindly. He could see the growing despair in her eyes. "She's rather forgiving."

"T-thank you," Narcissa breathed. She grabbed ahold of George's hand and squeezed it once, firmly. "Thank you."

He watched her discretely brush the tears from her face before drawing in a deep breath. "Now, I should find my son."

* * *

And she did. She smothered Draco, to his embarrassment. Nothing could embarrass a boy as well as his mother attacking him with a barrage of gushing affection. He found himself suddenly missing the aloof nature that was usually fitting of her.

After he had hugged her, he fought her off as quickly as he could. "Mother, please. I just want to rest. I'll visit you tomorrow."

"You're-you're not coming with me?" she questioned, startled by the possibility. His cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink. "I'm going where Hermione goes. And I doubt she's going to a place that holds so many bad memories. As I said, I will visit tomorrow. But not there. Never there. I don't know that I could ever go back."

And as much as it broke her heart, Narcissa understood. It was time she let another woman take care of him. She knew that Hermione Granger was more than capable.

"I love you, Draco. I do. I am so proud of you, son," she said through a stream of tears.

Draco caved and wrapped her up in one last tight hug. "I love you, too, Mother."

* * *

"Right this way, dear. I'll go fetch you a cup of tea. How does that sound?" Molly Weasley rushed as she opened her home to a Malfoy for the first time in either family's history. Draco smiled gratefully at the cheery person he had once poked fun at. "That sounds lovely, Mrs. Weasley, thank you."

The ginger woman beamed and dashed off to the kitchen. Hermione grinned at him. "Who would have thought that Draco Malfoy would ever be drinking tea in the Burrow with me?"

"Certainly not me," Draco admitted with a huff, "You've ruined me."

Hermione rolled her eyes lovingly before pushing him down onto the couch. The great orange beast nearly swallowed Draco's thin figure. "Now shut up and rest, will you? Take it easy. You certainly need to."

"She says as she roughly shoves me down like a sack of potatoes," he scoffed playfully, smiling up at her. She stepped into the arms that he wrapped around her. Running her fingers through his hair, she sighs. "You need a shower. You're filthy."

"Only if you take one with me."

Hermione's cheeks burned. "Not in this house. Not on your life."

"But I'm so poor and frail as you've pointed out. What if I slip and fall and drown in my own bathwater?"

"Then it would have been an unfortunate waste of time putting you through a trial if you were to die immediately following it anyway."

"Wow, you really know how to make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"That's what I'm here for." She bent down to kiss his forehead. "Now be a good boy and drink your tea and take a shower, yeah?"

Draco shook his head but relented. "Anything for you, I suppose."

She watched contently as Mrs. Weasley, her surrogate mother, doted on an extremely flustered Draco. Though Hermione knew the woman was still leery of him, it tickled her heart to see her make such an effort to be kind and courteous to a boy who had known little more than fear and hatred.

She, like Hermione, had ushered him to the shower, not that he was complaining. He later emerged from the bathroom feeling like a new man. He was wearing, much to Hermione's delight and astonishment, his own Weasley sweater. Slytherin green with a silver D on the front. He pulled at the neck, wishing he had something to complain about. But he really didn't. It was unexpectedly soft and so inexplicably homey.

Later that evening, Harry, George, and Cassie returned to the Burrow as well after grabbing a bite to eat in Muggle London. They knew that Hermione and Draco would want some time to themselves. And the two boys were doing everything in their power to distract Cassie from thoughts of her mother. It had been a stressful day for sure and they were all ready to hit their beds.

Harry frowned when he entered the kitchen. He saw a dark silhouette standing in the doorway, tensed and radiating anger. "Ron?" Harry called out gently. The figure turned, light catching his pinched face. He was right. Ron's mouth was twisted into a disgusted scowl. "What is it, Ron?"

"That," he said simply, pointing to the couch. Harry tiptoed over to see what Ron was so upset about.

Draco and Hermione were curled up on the couch together, Draco's arms around her, their legs a tangled mess. As they watched, Hermione snuggled closer to their childhood nemesis, a happy sigh escaping her lips.

"She thought he was going to die this morning, Ron. I hardly see anything wrong here," Harry sighed tiredly.

Ron dropped his crossed arms to his side, fists clenched. "Nothing wrong? Hermione's all tangled up with a bloody Death Eater in my house!"

Harry had had enough. He shoved Ron up against the wall, sending some miscellaneous pots and pans clattering to the floor. "You will not speak of him that way, do you understand me, Ron? I know we've all had our differences and that you've got it in your head that Hermione's yours. Well, she's not. She doesn't belong to anyone. But she has chosen to be with Draco and you need to accept that. They fought like hell to be together, so for Merlin's sake, let them be happy. Let _her_ be happy. This is what she wants. What she's been fighting for, even as she had to keep our idiotic selves out of trouble.

"And don't pretend like you didn't see what the rest of us saw today. We both know damn well that he was never a real Death Eater. Everything he's done has been to keep her safe. So if you really love her the way you claim to, you should be okay with that. So grow up, Ron. Everyone else has, so you should probably join in."

"Easy for you to say since you're shacking up with a Malfoy too now," Ron scoffed darkly. "I guess the Weasley's aren't good enough for you lot."

Like Hermione's, Ron didn't see Harry's right hook coming.

"Boys? What's going on?" a feminine voice wondered sleepily. Harry looked sheepishly to Hermione, shaking out his sore hand. Ron glared up at her from the floor, his hand covering his bloody nose.

"Nothing, Hermione," Harry said gently, "Sorry we woke you. Go back to sleep."

"Are you sure you're not going to kill each other?"

"Yes," Harry promised. All the anger in him had gone into that singular punch. "How's Draco?"

Hermione crossed her arms and turned her head to take in the sleeping boy. "Happy to be out. He won't tell me much about Azkaban, but I know it shook him up. He didn't want to push Mrs. Weasley's hospitality, so he asked me to stay just until he fell asleep, but I stayed anyway. We both used to have really awful nightmares and we used to talk each other through them. They stopped a few months ago, but now I'm afraid they'll start up again after having to relive everything."

She thought back to a few hours before when they had been getting ready for bed. Mrs. Weasley had bid them a good night before disappearing up the winding stairs. Draco was already sprawled across the couch and covered in the pile of blankets she had left for him. Hermione stood by his head, prepared to say good night as well.

His voice was low as he asked her, but she heard it nonetheless. "Please don't go."

So, she folded her legs and sat on the ground next to the couch. He rolled onto his side to face her, silver eyes looking to hers. "Please, you don't have to stay the night. I know that I'm already a not entirely appreciated guest, so I don't want to push it, but please. Will you just stay until I fall asleep?"

Hermione's hearted melted against the pleading silver gaze. She leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to his lips. "Of course, Draco. I'm here."

He took a hold of her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "I know it was only a week but…the thought of you was the only thing that kept me sane, Hermione."

"Oh, shove over," she said bossily as she squished herself onto the couch beside him. Despite her desire to follow Mrs. Weasley's rules, she knew there was no way she could stand to be away from him that night. They both needed the reassurance that they were together again. "It's only until you fall asleep," she informed him simply, though they both knew better. Draco caught her lips in a grateful kiss before letting his eyelids fall shut.

Hermione had woken a few short hours later to raised voices. She had snuck out of Draco's vice like grip to find Harry's fist and Ron's nose bloodied. It, of course, gave her no satisfaction. None at all. None that she would admit, anyway.

"I should probably warn you," Harry piped up, pulling her out of her thoughts, "Narcissa knows about Cassie. She tried to talk to her at the trial today."

His friend's eyes grew wide. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Cassie bolted. She's upset, but I think she'll be okay. George and I cheered her up a bit. She says she wants nothing to do with her, but I don't believe her. I can tell she's curious. I think she might give her a chance in time. She knows what happened saved her, but there's still some mixed feelings," Harry explained in a tired voice. He hated seeing Cassie so distraught over her mother.

Hermione glanced away from Harry when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Draco was sitting up, stretching his arms above his head. Before she could scold him about not sleeping, Hermione noticed another figure coming down the stairs. She watched as Cassie sank onto the couch beside him.

The platinum blonde haired siblings sat in silence for a moment. Cassie broke it the same moment Draco did. "I'm sorry," they both blurted out. Silver eyes met and filled with confusion.

"What could you have to be sorry for?" Draco questioned her seriously, all traces of sleep gone from his face.

Cassie hung her head shamefully. In a guilty breath, she rushed, "I accused you of being a monster. I didn't even let you explain before I blew up at you. And then you got arrested, and then I thought you were going to die, and then I thought you were going to die thinking I hated you, and then-"

Draco had covered her mouth with his hand. "Enough nonsense," he said, "You had every right to think what you did with the little you knew about me. I was hurt, but only because I had done it to myself. I've always loved you, even when I thought you were dead. I've never forgotten you. Finding out you were alive was amazing. I knew you didn't hate me. I mean, I kind of assumed that Hermione at least would explain some of it to you."

"Oh," she said. "Well, then, what do you have to be sorry for?"

"Believing you were dead. I should have looked for you," he said mournfully. "I never should have let it go."

Cassie gave him a flat look before shoving him. He stared up at her in shock. "You idiot, at least mine was a legitimate reason to be sorry. You were seven! What were you supposed to do, exactly?"

Draco shrugged sadly as he righted himself. "I don't know. I just feel like I should have done more."

"Well, you couldn't. But I'm here now. Alive and with you. So why don't we start with that?" she suggested softly, suddenly nervous. She needn't have been. Draco gave her a brilliant smile before dragging her into a bone crushing hug.

"H-help," she wheezed, "I know-you're right-there!"

With a laugh, Draco released her as Harry and Hermione made their way to the couch. Ron observed the happy scene with a sour, bloodied face.

"Well, it's late, I'm off to bed," Cassie informed them as she scooted out of Draco's tight grasp. She offered him one last happy smile before heading up the stairs. Harry followed shortly after her, suddenly nervous with her brother being there. Draco made no comments as he darted after her.

Ron stormed from the kitchen in disgust after he watched Draco pull Hermione down for a slow, peaceful kiss.

* * *

Cassie, meanwhile, was clinging to Harry outside of her shared room with Hermione. And now also Ginny. Which gave Harry some considerable anxiety. She relished his warmth and buried her face against his chest, relaxing into his embrace after the emotional day.

"Harry," she had said, "I know what she did saved me, but I still felt abandoned, you know? I was only six, I didn't really understand. Not until later. Even though it was my father that was the one who wanted to hurt me, the last image in my head of that awful night was her. I used to have nightmares about the gorgeous blonde woman who would leave me to these awful creatures. Because the orphanage she left me at was not exactly loving. It's hard not to think of that when I think of her."

Harry nodded, pulling her into his arms. "Cassie, I understand both sides, I think. Yours makes perfect sense, but then there's also hers. She did what she could to keep you alive. I'm sure giving up her only daughter wasn't something she was very keen to do. And all this time, she's not been able to see if you grew up okay for risk of getting you truly killed. Especially in these past few years. It may seem like she threw you aside, but she was only trying to keep you safe. Because believe me, that woman would do anything for Draco. She lied to Voldemort about me being dead to find him. Had I known she had a daughter, I could assure you that she would do no less for her. And honestly, maybe having to give you up is what made her so fiercely protective of him."

Cassie scowled and said, "Quit being so rational, will you? I want to be angry with her."

She felt his chuckle and snuggled closer. He tightened his grip around her in response. "I know you do, but think about, will you?"

"If I must," she sniffed.

* * *

Heathrow Airport was blissfully empty that night. The lights were dim, the crowd was thin. The baggage claim was quick and painless. After nearly 24 hours of plane travel, not counting the layovers, the lack of the airport's usual buzz was a blessed relief. England's bitter winter wind lashed relentlessly at the travelers as they braved the outdoors. But the draining flight, the vicious weather; it was nothing. Nothing was going to stop her now. Not when she had made it this far.

"Okay, I'm here. Now, where are you, Red?" the blonde asked herself as she uncertainly hailed a taxi, the snow dancing around her in the dark.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Yes, another cliffie! SORRY! But I'm actually home for a week, so I will do my absolute best to have another one by the end of the week since you've been so patient! Your reviews and messages are so inspiring, please keep them coming! Love you all!_**


	32. Muggle Madness

**_A/N: There. I managed to get you guys another chapter before my next show. And you should feel extra special because I finished this with two freshly fractured fingers! Word to the wise...try not to get your fingers between the ground the the hoof of a 2000lb horse._**

 ** _Anyway, please R &R! Enjoy!_**

 _Chapter Thirty Two  
Muggle Madness_

"Draco," a sweet voice whispered, "Draco, wake up."

The blonde groaned and tried to curl deeper into the surprisingly comfortable couch he'd been offered. He felt something soft tickle his nose and he scrunched it in displeasure. It persisted until he managed to blink one eye open. His sight was invaded by a bushy, chocolate mane and twinkling golden brown eyes.

"Morning sleepy head," she greeted cheerily. He grumbled nonsense and tried to pull her under the cover he was tugging back over his head. "Nice try, but I think not. It's time you woke up. Breakfast is almost ready. And I have a surprise for you!"

Draco lifted his head off his pillow and opened both eyes. "I don't like surprises."

"I know, but this is a good one, I promise," she reassured him. He watched her suspiciously as he pulled himself into a sitting position. She smiled at him happily, pleased that he was finally safe and with her. The fact that he was still snuggled in his Weasley sweater made her heart flutter.

"Good morning, Draco!" another voice called out. He swung his head around to find Cassie standing in the doorway to the kitchen. A slow smile crawled up his face as he took in his newly returned sister and the love of his life. He had never known such contentment before.

When Draco returned to the living room donning some of George's spare clothes, he sighed. "Alright. What is this surprise of yours?"

But he needn't have asked. His answer clawed at the backs of his legs. He jumped in fright and dropped his gaze to the floor. "Roo!" he cried happily.

The small gray cat purred contently as Draco scooped him up into his arms. He chuckled as Roo rubbed his furry head under his chin. Hermione was positively beaming. "Okay, I suppose this surprise _was_ a good one."

"Harry pulled a few strings and got one of his Aurors to go get him. I can only imagine how they felt when they realized their 'top secret' mission was retrieving a cat. He's only just come in this morning," Hermione explained. Having their crazy companion back with them gave Draco more of a sense of home and he clung to the fluffball he was once jealous of. Roo clung right back, his tiny claws latched onto Draco's shirt.

And so Roo joined the Weasley's, the Malfoy's, a Potter, and a Granger for a late breakfast, unaware that such a combination of families was previously unfathomable.

"So, Draco, dear, you and Hermione have been in Australia as well?" Mrs. Weasley asked, determined to make the uncomfortable boy feel more welcomed. The only one really that seemed to have a problem with him was Ron who was glaring down at his plate, seemingly intent on ignoring the lot of them. Mr. Weasley grinned chummily at him, forgiving all the feuds he had had with Draco's father. He was pleased that the haughty boy had turned out so well. He may have also wandered to the kitchen for a cup of tea in the night to find the young couple curled up quite peacefully, faint smiles on their sleeping faces.

Draco nodded slowly. "We wanted to find her parents. And we did but then I, you know, got arrested and all. We moved there in the beginning of June, as soon as I found her."

"And you lived…together?"

Both Hermione and Draco blushed under the attention of the crazy clan that surrounded the table. Draco had no shame for it, but he knew that these people were as good as Hermione's family. Or better, considering the family he had come across when first finding her. "Yes. It made more sense to have a happy place to come back to rather than countless hotel rooms. We've got a small flat not far from where Potter and George ended up."

"Oh, you're all so grown up already! Good for you, dears," she said with a teary expression. Draco panicked, not sure what to do with a weepy Weasley. "I mean, of course I always thought that Hermione would end up with Ron here, I suppose."

Ron had started to lift his head, a smug smirk on his lips before his mother continued, "But I realize that was only because it was convenient. I can see how in love you two are. It makes an old heart feel alive again. I'm glad you found each other, that you've had support since the war. I know that it's important to have that. And I understand…Georgie dear, why you felt the need to leave."

George looked up, startled to hear his name in that heartfelt confession. He raised a ginger eyebrow in wonder. His mother sighed. "We understand why you left. I've had a few chats with Hermione about why she left. The confusion, the hopelessness, the loneliness despite being surrounded by loved ones. She helped me see that what you felt was similar. And, oh Georgie, we never wanted you to feel like you couldn't grieve. We were in mourning ourselves and had no idea how to help you. We should have done more to support you."

"It's-it's okay, Mum," George said seriously. Then, with a wink to Hermione, "I, too, had chats with Hermione and she helped me as well. I had plenty of _support_. Don't worry."

"Just how plenty, _Red_?" Harry teased, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. George's face turned scarlet and he let out a strangled cough.

"George?" Mrs. Weasley questioned. She had never seen that particular son have the grace to blush before.

"Shut it, Harry."

Cassie finally piped in with a conspiratorial wink at Harry. "What?" she huffed playfully, "You're not ashamed of my best friend, are you?"

Rather than taking the bait, George simply offered them a content smile. "No," he answered calmly, "I'm rather in love with her actually."

Silence.

"I knew it," a hushed voice cried triumphantly. All eyes turned to an excited Ginny. She shrank back a bit at the attention, but quickly recovered. "It was his letters. They started getting longer. And happier. And he talked about surfing. All. The. Time. But I knew there had to be more to it than a new love for the ocean. He was getting shagged! Of course he was happier!"

"Ginerva!" her mother cried in astonishment at her crass choice of words. The rest of the table, minus a fiercely blushing George, burst into laughter. The youngest Weasley had never been one to hold much back.

Ron scowled and muttered bitterly, "Great. So everyone's getting all loved up but me, even the one ear wonder."

George pretended he hadn't heard his brother's words, but Hermione had his back. She cuffed the back of his head so hard his forehead nearly hit the table. "You watch your words, you despicable mongrel. You can hate the rest of us all you want, but would it kill you to be happy for him?"

"Listen, I don't have to be happy with the fact that my two best friends have ditched me and my family for bloody Malfoys, okay? I mean, how can you two even sit at this table right now? Harry, you brought your new Malfoy girlfriend into our home and let her stay in Ginny's room! And Hermione, you broke my heart and now you're with a bloody Death Eater! And I don't care if he really was or wasn't one, he's still got that damned Mark!" Ron exploded, jumping to his feet. Hermione shrank back from him.

Before he could continue his rage, Ginny calmly joined in. "Ronald, stop before you make an even bigger idiot of yourself. Maybe that's how you feel, but don't drag me into this. I don't feel like I've been ditched. I'm glad that Harry's happy. Cassie and I had a nice talk last night, as a matter of fact."

And they had. After Harry had left Cassie with a quick good night kiss, she had entered the dimly lit room. Ginny was curled up on her bed already, a Quidditch book on her lap. She tossed it aside when she heard Cassie come in. She was nervous being around the ginger, awkward to be sharing a room with Harry's ex.

"I know you're dating Harry," she opened with. Cassie shrank back, expecting a verbal lashing. None came. "I can tell you make him happy. That's all I want for him. I just want to say thank you. I tried but we both knew it would never work. Promise me you'll take good care of him?"

And just like that, they had become fast friends.

Back in the present, Ginny continued. "And besides, not that anyone's asked, but I'm seeing someone else, too."

Mrs. Weasley gushed over her daughter's new beau for a moment before Ron stormed from the table in disgust. In the madness his brother had stirred, George had fallen quiet, a thoughtful look on his face. His father seemed to be one of the few who caught it. He nudged him gently. "Penny for your thoughts, son? Thinking about this lady of yours?"

George's small smile was his answer. "I thought as much. Tell me about her."

The ginger twirled his spoon around his fingers, staring at it absently as he smiled to himself. "She's beautiful. And crazy about the ocean. She thinks my one ear-edness is 'knarly'. Sings to herself when she thinks I can't hear her. She's constantly laughing, telling jokes, pulling pranks." Finally, George met his father's soft blue eyes. In a quiet voice, he admitted, "Dad, she makes me feel like I can be happy again."

Arthur Weasley felt tears brimming in his eyes. His son was a grown man of 20 now, but he still saw him and Fred as lanky, young pranksters. The age he saw in his son's eyes was far beyond either ages he wished he had. Fred's untimely death had left a hole in his heart that would never be filled, and it widened only further when he thought the pain George was in over his loss. But to see him so peaceful, to see the smile on his face. It brought him greater happiness than he thought he could know.

But there was more, he could tell. A lingering sadness dampened the joy in his son's words. "Georgie? She sounds wonderful. I'm so happy for you, son, I really am."

"She is Dad, she is," he agreed wholeheartedly.

Arthur frowned and glanced at his son. "I'm sensing a but…"

George, whose gaze had returned to the spoon in his hand, paused his mindless action. "I'm not sure how it's going to work out."

"Why wouldn't it?"

Sad blue eyes met his. "She's a Muggle."

Though the rest of the table had been intent on Ginny, it was hard not to hear the word Muggle. Curious faces turned towards him and he sank into his seat.

"Who's a Muggle?" Ginny asked cautiously.

Cassie cleared her throat when George remained silent. "Becs is. My best friend."

"And Becs is…oh," Mrs. Weasley trailed off.

"I don't know what to do," George admitted to the table. Harry clapped a reassuring hand on his back. "Yes, you do. Be with her. I know you love her."

The red head nodded slowly. Slightly ashamed, he admitted, "I'm afraid."

"Of what?" Draco questioned, surprising everyone by his involvement.

George couldn't meet his eye. "That she'll run screaming when she finds out what I am."

"If Hermione didn't run screaming when she already knew I was a pompous, bigoted git, then I think Becs won't when she finds out that something as amazing as magic is real," Draco pointed out in a matter of fact way. Hermione pressed a kiss to his cheek, grinning widely at him. "You really were a pompous, bigoted git, weren't you?"

He rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep the smile out of them.

"She just means so much to me that the thought of losing her terrifies me," George said, his voice small, "I've already lost so much."

The occupants at the table sobered up at his admission.

It was Hermione who spoke up in the silence that followed. "Georgie, I know it's terrifying to make that leap of faith. But the longer you wait, the harder I think it will be for her to adjust. You can't hide this part of you. Because it's not just a part, it is simply all of you. You can't hide that you're a wizard forever because then you could never be your real self around her. And you're real self is pretty amazing, George."

Surrounded by the encouragement of the people he loved most, George felt a bit more confident about it. The thought of her rejecting him still haunted him with a vicious fervor, but he did his best to quash it down.

"You're very serious about this girl, then?" his mother questioned. It was a serious thing to admit the reality of magic to a Muggle. It was usually only done when a marriage was intended. The look on her son's face as he nodded told her more than he ever could with words. "Well then, when do we get to meet this…?"

"Becs. Rebekah. Her name's Rebekah," he said with a large smile.

88888

"Thank you so much for coming with me, Harry," Hermione gushed again as they meandered the streets of Muggle London. I've been dying for some sweets from home. They don't have quite the right ones down under."

Harry waved away her gratitude with a shake of his head. "Believe me, I've been dying for some, too. And anyway, I think Cassie and Mal-Draco appreciated the time alone together."

Hermione smiled at her best friend's slip up. Merlin, it was so good to see him trying. "Yeah, I know he was nervous about it, but I know they'll be fine. I have a feeling Narcissa will be a large part of their conversation."

"They do have a lifetime to catch up on. I mean, can you imagine?" Harry asked in awe.

Hermione bumped him with her shoulder. "Says the boy who was the most famous wizard in the world but didn't even know he was one. Is it really that hard to imagine?"

"I suppose you're right. I never would have thought-"

"Potter?" a feminine voice called out uncertainly. "Potter! It _is_ you!"

Used to having his name called in wizarding London, Harry whipped his head around to the voice, wondering who could possibly know him in the Muggle part. The dark tanned, curly haired blonde that was waving at him frantically stopped him dead in his tracks. Hermione frowned at his behavior until she saw the blonde.

The girl rushed up to Harry and threw her arms around him in a fierce hug. "My God! You have no idea what a relief it is to see a familiar face!"

"B-becs?" Harry stuttered out in disbelief, his arms slowly wrapping around her. He looked to Hermione's dropped jaw, figuring his own stunned face probably wasn't any better. "What are you doing here? In England?"

Becs pulled away from Harry and rushed, "Well, you idiots disappeared without a single word! And then when I finally heard from you, George sounded awful. He called me in tears sounding so hopeless and there was something about a trial…how could you leave me out of the loop like that!"

Harry cowered much to Hermione's amusement as Becs rant turned physical. "Hermione! Do something!" he begged.

Becs paused and flicked her gaze over to the brunette standing off to the side, an amused smirk on her face. "Hi," she offered, "I'm Becs."

"Hermione," the witch greeted warmly. "It's nice to finally meet you. We were all just talking about you this morning. All good things, I assure you."

"So, Potter, you lot can talk _about_ me but not _to_ me?" Becs huffed irritably. Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, it's all rather complicated, Becs."

"Complicated? I can handle complicated. I want to see him. I want to see, Red," she demanded fiercely. Harry gulped and nodded. "And I know he wants to see you too, but there are certain things that you just can't understand yet."

The girl was patient, Hermione gave her that. She would have never relented until she received all the answers she wanted immediately. "You'll have to trust us," she found herself saying. "The only one who should explain everything to you is George himself. We'll take you to him, but you have to do as we say, okay?"

Becs shifted uncomfortably as she flipped her gaze between their serious faces. In a thin voice, she asked, "He is okay, right?"

"Oh, of course, of course! He's perfectly fine. There's just some things that he should be the one to tell you about."

"O-Okay then."

88888

George was sprawled out on the great orange couch he had recently shooed Draco from. He insisted the pale blonde needed some sun and sent him and his sister out into the garden. It offered them privacy and him his thinking couch.

He didn't have the guts to tell his family yet that he would be returning to Australia. And soon. He couldn't stand to be away from Becs any longer. Now that the danger of losing Draco had passed, he wished to return. But at the same time, spending time in his shop wasn't as painful anymore. George found himself a little reluctant to leave it behind again. And he realized he missed his family a lot more than he thought he had now that he was back in their midst.

He also didn't think he had the guts to tell Becs the truth. He wanted to. So badly did he want to. She had sewn his broken pieces back together without even understanding the most important ones she stitched up.

His eyes had just fluttered shut when he heard the familiar crack of apparition. Harry's wide green eyes sought his out, his whole being a frantic mess.

"Quick!" he shouted, "Hide everything that looks magical!"

"Are you mental, mate?" George wondered incredulously.

"Do it now, George, and you'll be thanking me in ten minutes!"

Certain that the Boy-Who-Lived had finally lost it with this Muggle madness, George set to work Muggle-fying the Burrow.

88888

"I-I don't know that I want to talk to her, Drake," Cassie admitted uncomfortably. Her brother, a thought that still amazed her, had been hinting at it all afternoon. She knew he desperately wanted his family back together, bar their father, but she wasn't sure she could do it.

The corners of Draco's lips curled downwards in a disappointed frown, but he understood. "You're not ready. I get it. But just promise me you'll think about it?"

Cassie bit her lip and turned away from him. He placed a hesitant hand on the small of her back. Expecting her to skirt away, he froze in surprise when she collapsed against him. She snuggled up to him, her head on his shoulder. "I promise, Drake. I can give her a chance. But maybe not right away. I've barely wrapped my head around the fact that I'm with you again and back in England. My last memories of her…they're not great."

"Nor are mine of you, Cas," Draco admitted in a small voice. He relaxed beside her and gently snaked an arm around her shoulders. "But…we're here. Together. And whether or not you wish to bear the name, you _are_ a Malfoy. You're family and there is nothing more important."

"Except Hermione," Cassie teased lightly to change the subject. She pulled away just enough to catch a glimpse of her brother's rosy cheeks. She had noticed that he was very sparing with physical contact, that he seemed unsure what would be welcomed. It saddened her to know that it was the result of a detached and tortured upbringing. But she also noticed that Hermione seemed to be the exception. Perhaps it was only because they had lived several years with the constant threat of separation, but one always seemed to be touching the other. Whether it was a kiss to the cheek, a brush of the fingers, a hand on a knee, a hug from all directions, they were never far from each other when they were in the same room. There was no uncertainty from him. Half the time she didn't even think he knew he was doing it.

Draco pretended to sound grumpy as he admitted it. "Except Hermione," he echoed in confirmation.

"I'm so happy you found someone so amazing," Cassie said seriously. "She's perfect, Drake."

The older blonde smiled to himself. "Yes, she is. I got lucky. You, on the other hand? Not so much," he said, scrunching up his nose as if he smelled something foul. "You found Potter of all people."

He pretended to be affronted when she smacked him on the arm. Their long overdue sibling bickering was interrupted by the sound of apparition.

8888888

"George, there's someone here to see you," Hermione informed him slowly. His eyebrow lifted in question as Hermione stepped aside and swung the door all the way open. His jaw nearly scraped the floor as her action revealed the very girl he'd just been worrying over.

"Becs?" he whispered in disbelief. With a cry of delight, the slim girl flew at him. He staggered back under the sudden addition of weight, but he caught her in a tight hug. He gaped at Harry and Hermione who shrugged apologetically. The blonde squeezed him in a fierce bear hug, her face buried against his chest. She was a full head shorter than him, his chin resting on the top of her soft curls. And thank Merlin for that, because he never wanted her to see the fear written all over his face.

She pulled away from him with excitement in her eyes. He hid his terror and grinned broadly at the girl. "I couldn't stay away, Red. And I've always wanted to see England!"

"It's-it's so good to see you. Becs. Here. In. England. _In. The. Burrow_ ," George said haltingly, the madness of the situation hitting him full force. "Oh, sweet Merlin."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Yay! Roo and Becs are back! Let me know what you think :) Your reviews mean everything to me. Please keep them coming! They make writing so much more fun :D**_


	33. Some Kind of Magician

_**A/N: I'M BACK! So sorry for the inexcusable delay! You know how life is, it doesn't always agree with your plans.**_

 _ **Hope you enjoy!**_

Chapter Thirty-Three  
Some Kind of Magician

"Potter, was that you that just popped in? Can I have my girlfriend back yet?" Draco called out hopefully as he and Cassie stepped back into the Burrow. The kitchen was empty so the two followed the noise coming from the living room. He staggered back when his sister blew past him, squealing in excitement.

"Oh my God, Becs! What are you doing here? I missed you so much. I'm never leaving you again. How did you get here? How long have you-" Cassie gushed in one breath as she clung to her lifelong best friend. The dirty blonde laughed happily as her younger friend took a millisecond to breathe, crushing her slim body to her. "Take a breather, Cas, it's good to see you, too."

Becs glanced over Cassie's shoulder to a wary blonde boy who bore a striking resemblance to the blonde girl in her arms. She had a suspicion that he was more than just the guy that Harry's friend had run off with. There was too much going on for her poor jetlagged brain.

Cassie pulled away from her abruptly, her silver eyes shining with delight. "I've missed you so much!"

"Well, you wouldn't have had to if you'd told me you were leaving in the first place!" Becs exclaimed with an accusing tone. She was overjoyed to see her best friend, but it didn't overshadow her hurt at being so easily left behind.

Cassie had the grace to blush. "Becs, it wasn't exactly planned. It was a spur of the moment, needed-to-happen-right-then kind of thing."

"What could that possibly have been?" Becs wondered, desperate for someone to finally explain what was going on.

"That's a really long story. It'll be explained, but why don't you-"

Harry crossed the room and stopped in front of the two girls. "Becs, why don't I take your bags for you? Surely you want to get settled in. You must've had quite a trip."

Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world and awkward situations.

Becs frowned momentarily, frustrated at still being in the dark, but she turned it upside down. It was hard to resist Harry's sweet nature. She didn't miss the adoring gaze that Cassie had directed at the raven haired boy. "Sure thing, Potter, thanks."

George, meanwhile, had been standing unusually still off to the side. Though his heart was overjoyed to see her, his mind was screaming. He loved her. Merlin, he loved her. He knew in his heart of hearts that she was it for him. But things were moving far too fast far too soon. And so, while Becs was distracted by Harry, he made his leave unnoticed.

Becs' gaze trailed after Harry as he made his way up an impossibly crooked stair case. When he disappeared from sight, she turned her sights back to Cassie. Hermione now stood beside her, a genuine smile on her face, though her eyes seemed worried. The blonde boy made his way to her side, stopping between Cassie and Hermione.

"Becs, there's someone I want you to meet," Cassie said almost shyly. Becs raised a curious eyebrow at her before assessing the boy by her side. "This is Draco, Becs."

Becs raised the obligatory hand to shake, grasping his as Cassie continued. "He's my brother."

Had she not had the added strength of his hand in hers, Becs feared she might have collapsed. Recovering from her shock, she ripped her hand away and stared at the boy. "Brother? Oh my God, she said you were alive but so much happened and I just-"

Draco smiled wryly. "Actually, she only lost me. I was the one believing my sister was dead. It's delightful to meet you, Becs. Cas has told me a fair bit about you."

Becs merely blubbered at the boy she had mourned for along with her friend. His silver eyes, identical to Cassie's, grew serious. "I want to thank you," he said gravely, "for being there for her when I could not."

"Hey, n-no problem," Becs stuttered, still in shock. She laughed nervously at herself. "I'm sorry for being so rude. It's just-I've gone my whole life knowing you were dead…but you're not."

While Cassie's brother had seem somewhat reserved in the few moments she had observed him, his face came to life with a broad smile. He let out a chuckle with a happy glance to Cassie. "I was in your exact position just days ago, don't you worry. I'm still a bit in awe."

In utter amazement, Becs made to turn to George. "Red, can you even believe this? That the boy who was with your-Red?" Her words died on her tongue when she realized there was no longer a lanky ginger standing behind her. "Where'd he go?"

Hermione finally spoke up. "I think he slipped out a few minutes ago. He was, um, working on something before you got there. Something rather time sensitive, so he probably had to attend to it. I'll go find him. You catch up with Cassie here."

Becs nodded in understanding, her lips curled downwards into a disappointed frown. Cassie's heart ached for her friend. She pretended not to notice the uncertainty in her eyes as she beckoned Becs onto the big orange couch.

"Should I not have come, Cas?" Becs whispered nervously after she got settled in on the couch. She was aware of Draco standing off to the side, but he seemed to be trying to give them some privacy. Her friend's smile was sad. "I promise you, Becs, that boy has been missing you like crazy. But there's a lot he's been dealing with and I'm sure he's just a bit overwhelmed. Just give him a bit, okay? There's a lot he wants to tell you, and he's still trying to work out how to."

Becs still seemed uncertain, but she nodded regardless. As much as George had seemed to improve over the months, she still knew he struggled with the loss of his twin. She had to be patient with him for just a little while longer. She could do that for him.

* * *

"George? George, where have you run off to?" Hermione called out softly. She knew he was around somewhere. He loved the gardens off to the side of his house. He couldn't be too far. It only took a few minutes of searching before her eyes landed on a patch of fire amongst the greenery.

The bushy haired brunette settled herself on the bench beside the redhead. They didn't acknowledge each other for a great length of time, instead choosing to take in the nature around them in silence. Hermione, often known for her patience, was lacking some, however, and she couldn't wait too long.

"Georgie, you need to go see Becs."

She received no response.

"That girl flew halfway across the world with little more than the slim hope that she would somehow come to find you when she landed. You cannot ignore her, Georgie. She loves you, can't you see?" Hermione pleaded.

"You think I don't know that?" George shouted unexpectedly, bolting to his feet. He whirled on Hermione, his eyes bright and wild. "Of course I know that!"

Hermione remained seated on the ancient oak bench and blinked calmly before wondering, "Then why are you hiding out in the garden instead of being with her?"

"Because I have no idea what to do, okay?" George sighed, his brief anger deflating instantly. "Hermione, how am I supposed to tell her? I'd love nothing more than to share this part of my life with her, but you're not supposed to share anything with a Muggle unless you're committed to marriage! Merlin knows that she's the only one for me. I've known that since the very beginning. But we haven't been together long enough for that kind of commitment! She'd think I was mental if I started talking about marriage. She's only 19 for Merlin's sake! But now that she's here, not just England, but the _Burrow_ , I've got no choice but to tell her! Please, please explain to me how this is supposed to work!"

"I-I don't know, Georgie," Hermione sighed sadly. She rose to her feet, taking his shaking hands in hers. "I know it seems impossible right now, but there is only one thing that matters here."

He looked down at her with eyes that seemed ancient in their suffering. "What?"

"Do you love her?"

"More than I ever thought possible."

"Then I don't see the problem," she stated firmly. "I don't mean to relate your situation back to mine and Draco's, but I feel I have to. We beat the impossible, Georgie, we made it through a bloody war to be together. If you love this girl, then you will find a way to make it work. You just have to have faith that it is possible, no matter how slim that chance is. Don't you ever give up, do you hear me?"

A very solemn George nodded his understanding at her. "I should go find her. Thank you, 'Mione. Thank you."

"Georgie, you silly boy, I owe everything to you," Hermione said with a beaming grin, "You helped Draco find me when I thought he was dead. I'll never forget that. You helped me find my happiness. It's only right that I help you find yours."

Hermione's ribs creaked in protest at the bear hug the ginger drew her into without warning. She patted his back, gasping for breath as she smiled. He released her just as quickly, and with a quick peck to the cheek, the boy was gone.

She stared after him, shaking her head in amusement. Her heart skipped a beat as a voice in her ear murmured, "I'll never forget what he did either."

"Oh, Draco, you scared me," she said breathlessly as she spun to face his smirking figure. Her heart melted at the sight of him. He lazily drew her into his arms and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. His breath tickled her neck as he said, "He gave me my happiness, too."

Hermione tightened her grip on him. "Draco, what would have happened if he hadn't come found you?"

The worry in her voice had him pulling far enough away to look her in the eye. A small smile worked its way onto his face as he thought about it. "Oh I might've taken a bit more time wallowing in self-pity. But I'd like to think I would've worked up enough of a rage to find you, if only to demand why you didn't love me."

"I've always loved you," she admitted with a shy grin. His lips hiked up even higher in the corners. "I have, too," he answered, "though I was rather reluctant to admit it for far too long. I wouldn't change a thing."

"Neither would I," she said truthfully. "It may not have been the exact love story I'd been dreaming of, it's the only I want. Because it has you in it. That's all I need."

"You're all I need, too. Though, and don't ever repeat a word of this to anyone, I think I don't quite mind your Gryffindor clan."

She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

"As is my heart," he added softly.

"That was incredibly cheesy, Draco," she giggled happily.

"But nonetheless true," he insisted, drawing her closer to him.

The stood in a sweet silence for a moment or two simply holding each other. Once again, Hermione's patience for the quiet lasted for only so long.

"Draco?"

"Mmm?"

"During your trial," she began, her cheeks burning red as she rested her face against his shoulder, "you said something that I can't stop thinking about."

She was almost afraid to continue when he seemed to go entirely still. Then, his heart started to race against her cheek.

"And what might that be?" he questioned softly, doing everything in his power not to reveal his nerves.

Hermione was the one to pull back this time. Her hazel eyes gazed up at him with uncertainty and innocent hope. "Well, when we thought that the Veritaserum would k-kill you, you said-you said you were going to marry me."

"I did."

"I guess I was wondering…are you still?"

* * *

"Well, don't you two look like you've had some fun," Harry teased as Hermione and Draco slipped back into the Burrow. As much as it disturbed him to see his best friend and former enemy looking as though they'd engaged in some…adult activities, the smile on Hermione's face couldn't be ignored. She was positively beaming, and it was somehow because of the pompous git from their youth. Blushing a vivid crimson, Hermione scrambled to tame her wild curls as Draco straightened out his shirt.

"What's got you two so happy?" Cassie wondered, not obliviously to the shy but deliriously happy looks the couple kept shooting each other.

"Just went for a nice walk in the garden, is all," Draco said pleasantly as he reached for Hermione. Harry made a show of fake disgust as Draco dipped Hermione for a kiss. "We'll be upstairs if you need us."

They disappeared with a trail of giggles and squeals on Hermione's part. Harry turned to Cassie with a mystified look. "I don't know about you, but I don't think I'll be going upstairs anytime soon, even if I _did_ need them."

Cassie couldn't have agreed more.

"Do you think they're okay? Becs and George, that is?" Harry asked absently. He worried greatly for his friend. He had briefly gone through some similar struggles as him until Cassie turned out to be a Squib.

Cassie snuggled up to the concerned boy, delighting when he wrapped an arm around her. "I should hope so. They deserve a happy ending, George especially."

* * *

George was working on his happy ending, but he was pretty sure he was only ensuring its failure.

Becs had been cold toward him when he had returned to the Burrow. She was reluctant to be pulled away from Cassie, especially when he hadn't been excited to see her. But still, she went with him anyway, annoyed but equally glad to be with him.

They strolled across a meadow hand in hand, George chewing his bottom lip in deep concentration. It was driving her absolutely crazy. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Becs tugged him to a stop. When he turned to see what was wrong, he was met with a hungry kiss. Eager to forget what was ailing him, George responded whole heartedly.

When they finally broke apart, Becs leaned her forehead against his and panted, "Now, are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

George frowned. "Nothing's wrong."

"You're a terrible liar, George Weasley."

He sighed deeply. "I know."

"What has been going on? You can't keep me in the dark forever. I deserve to know," she insisted softly.

George nodded slowly. "I know you do, it's just not that easy to explain."

"Why not?"

He pulled away from her, regretting it when her hands slipped from his. "There's a large part of my life that I can't tell you about."

Her jade green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"There are laws about it," George tried to explain, cringing at how horribly he was doing.

Becs scoffed and crossed her arms at that. "Laws? Okay, Red. What are you on about?"

"Becs, do you love me?" he asked suddenly.

Her eyes widened in surprise and her cheeks grew pink. Sputtering, she managed, "Wh-what are you-where did-what does that have to do with anything?"

George, determined to get the truth out now, stepped forward and took her hand in his. His gaze was intense as he repeated his question. "Do you love me?"

"I-I do," the usually confident girl answered meekly.

He took a deep breath before continuing in a low voice. "I want to tell you everything, Becs, but I'm afraid that doing so will scare you off. And I'm not sure I can live with that. What I want to tell you is a heavily guarded secret. By law, I'm not supposed to tell you unless we're serious enough for-for marriage."

"Marriage?" Becs squeaked.

George nodded sadly. "And at the risk of scaring you off, I have to admit, you're it for me. The idea of being married to you is thrilling. I would be ready for it. But I realize that we've barely been together. And that's a lot to ask of someone."

"Wh-what are you asking me of?"

"Becs," he murmured, cradling her face in his hands. She could feel them trembling as her heart raced. "I'm asking if we're that serious. Because if we're not, then I can't tell you. I won't be able to explain anything that's happened. And you'll have to be okay with that."

She gulped, but her eyes remained locked on his. "And if we are?"

Hope swam behind the fear in his eyes. "Then I can tell you everything. But telling you everything might have you running from me as fast as you can. And I don't know if I can live without you."

Becs flicked her gaze downward, in thought for a moment, relishing the warmth of George's hands on her face. "Do I have to decide now?"

"No, Merlin no!" George rushed. "You can take all the time you need."

"Okay," she said, returning her gaze to his, "Does agreeing to this mean we'd have to get married right away?"

"Not at all! It could be years from now. It's only to keep people from spilling the secret to any Muggle that catches their fancy. It's meant for those who believe they've found the person they want to spend the rest of their life with," he answered quickly.

Her face scrunched up in confusion and he found it adorable. "Muggle?" she echoed.

He shrugged sheepishly, "Part of what I have to explain."

She accepted that and raised a hand to rest on top of one of his. Leaning into his touch, Becs gave him his answer.

"I want to know. Tell me everything."

George's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't possibly mean it. Despite his disbelief, his hopes soared dangerously. "Don't you need some time to-"

"No, I know what I want, Red. And what I want is you," she said resolutely. Her voice was soft but strong as she carried on. "I don't want to marry you anytime soon. We're much too young. But I would. In the future. Which is totally crazy. But it's the truth. I can't see anyone ever meaning as much to me as you. Is that completely mental?"

George could hardly contain his happiness. "Of course it is," he laughed heartily, "but it doesn't matter since we both feel the same way."

"Good," she said a bit breathlessly, blown away by her admission. "So, tell me!"

To her frustration, George retreated into himself once again, pulling his hands to his sides. Her face crying for the loss of contact, Becs tried to grab his hands. He only stepped away from her. Wounded after just admitting to him that she would be willing to marry him someday, Becs let her hands fall uselessly to her sides.

"Is that not enough for you?" she wondered hollowly.

His head whipped up to face her. "Yes! Oh it's wonderful, Becs! I'm just-well, I'm afraid I'm still going to lose you. That what I have to tell you is only going to scare you off. I'm trying, but I just don't know how to explain it."

"George, you've lead me on long enough with all of this! It's insanity! Just tell me what it is you think I need to know so bloody badly so we can be happy again!" she demanded, irritated by his sullen, withholding mood.

She shrank back when she realized she had set him off too.

"You want the truth? Fine. I am a wizard! Are you happy now?" he cried.

He was met with silence. Then.

"Are you actually kidding me, George?" she snapped angrily, "You've made this whole big production about what's been going on and you can't even be serious about it for one minute? I know we're all about the jokes and the pranks, but be serious for once. Can't you do that?"

"Of course I can!" George argued. "That's what I'm trying to do right now! I'm telling you that I am a wizard, Becs. I live in a magical world. I have a wand. I cast spells. I have a magical joke shop that I ran with Fred. My-"

"Enough, George!" Becs shouted in a fit of pent up rage. "I'm tired of this! I flew all the way from Australia to come find you with no idea where I was going. I only knew that I needed to find you. You sounded so broken and I just wanted to be here to piece you back together. But I can't. And maybe I shouldn't have tried. Clearly, you're not taking this as seriously as I am."

"Becs, listen to me, you have to let me explain," George pleaded, chasing after the retreating girl.

"I have, George," she snapped, "And I realize that I've made a fool out of myself by coming here."

"You haven't, you really haven't. Just stay and listen to me!"

She recoiled from his grasp, not slowing down in the slightest, "I've heard enough."

In a last ditch effort to get the girl of his dreams to listen to him, George blurted out the last question Becs was expecting.

"Can I take you to London?"

The angry blonde spun on her heel to glare at him fiercely. Before she could tell him off properly, George had pulled out an odd looking stick and wrapped his arms around her. She felt a faint tugging at her navel and heard a strange 'POP' and then nothing.

George helped Becs right herself after she had lost the contents of her stomach in a bush. Angry and embarrassed, she reared her head up, yelling, "George Weasley, what the hell is wrong with-"

She never finished her rant. Her gaze went past George's worried expression and focused in on her surroundings. "Is-is that the London Eye?"

George didn't have to turn his head to know. He simply nodded.

"We-we're in London?"

Another nod.

"But we were just in-it took Harry and me over an hour to get from here to your house…" she tried to logic out. "I don't…how?"

"I apparated you here," George explained somewhat sheepishly.

Becs checked her watch, ignoring him, too dazed to understand. It read 4:51. Just before George had grabbed her it had been 4:50. "I-I don't understand."

"It's a lot to explain."

"Well, I think I have the time for it," she breathed nervously. She hesitantly slipped her fingers through his hand and grabbed the stick from his other. Eyes darting between it and George's hopeful expression, they started down the street. "Tell me again, did you say you were some kind of magician?"

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, what do you think? I'd love to hear from you guys! And thank you immensely to all those who have reviewed and messaged me. Your continued support of this story means the absolute world to me!**_


	34. Missing in Mourning

**A/N: _I'm sorry it's been so long. Inexcusable, I know, so I won't give you any excuses. We're winding down here. I'm think twoish chapters left._**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

Chapter Thirty-Four  
Missing in Mourning

Ron Weasley entered the kitchen on a hunt for some late night snacks, desperately hoping that there was some dinner left over. His stomach growled viciously, but its raucous gurgles weren't loud enough to hide the disturbing noises coming from the dimly lit living room. Hating himself for heading to the doorway to ensure his suspicions were correct, Ron grimaced when he spotted a very blonde head at the neck of the witch he once thought he loved.

The soft noise of lips on skin was enough to make his ears bleed. He stuffed his fingers in his ears and promptly fled the room.

In the living room, with Draco gently kissing up and down her neck, Hermione was weak at the knees. Draco's arms kept her pressed up against his warm body and admittedly, from melting into a puddle on the floor. She ran her fingers through his hair, a content hum escaping her throat.

Between his lazy kisses, Draco was showering her with affectionate words. Hermione couldn't help but love him despite how utterly ridiculous he was being. "Draco, Azkaban has made you extremely sappy. You've always been more of an actions speak louder than words kind of wizard. Since you've been here you've been channeling your inner Shakespeare."

He paused his ministrations on her neck and raised his head to hers, smirking when he found her pouting. "Are you _really_ complaining, though?"

"Of course not," she giggled as he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. "I was merely making an observation. You're not nearly as angsty as the boy I first fell in love with. All broody and dark. But this you, the undeniably happy, peaceful Draco, I love him, too."

Draco tried to hide the blush that went to the very tips of his ears by pulling her in for a tight hug. "I love you, too, Hermione. Obviously, or I wouldn't be marrying you."

Hermione pulled away from his embrace enough to look at him. She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth were curled upwards. "Not for a few years at least, you sappy dork."

He loved it when he made her blush scarlet in return. "Tomorrow or fifty years from now, it doesn't matter. I'm still going to marry you. I do believe you said yes, did you not?" he teased lovingly.

"I did," she beamed, stealing a lingering kiss before continuing, "Sometimes declarations made under duress are the best kind."

Draco made a face in disagreement. "Not that I regret saying it, but I would have much preferred to propose to you in a grand, romantic gesture a few years from now. Not when I thought I was sending myself to my death, you know? Puts a bit of a damper on it, don't you think?"

"Not at all. It's only following our typical pattern. Matters of life and death and all that."

"Merlin, I really do love you. When can we go home?" he questioned suddenly.

Hermione smiled at him, this time a little sadness behind it. "I don't know," she admitted slowly. "I think the question is _where_ is home going to be?"

Before Draco could respond, there was the familiar crack of apparation, and a ginger popped into existence just feet from them. Not bothering to free themselves, Hermione and Draco simply turned their heads to greet George with warm smiles. Upon seeing his tear streaked face, however, Hermione tore herself from Draco and launched herself at the lanky red head.

"Georgie, what's wrong?"

Shaking arms wound themselves around her waist somewhat haltingly before they locked in a vice grip. His long, thin fingers dug into her back as he buried his face in her neck, hiding behind a curtain of chocolate brown curls.

Hermione shot a panicked look over his shoulder to Draco who was watching the scene before him with a heartbroken expression on his face. George was, admittedly, the one Weasley he could honestly say he was a friend of. And for everything the boy had done for him and Hermione, he couldn't help but feel the despair radiating off him in waves. Draco had felt that desperation during the war, and he knew it was a nearly impossible beast to defeat.

"Wh-where's Becs, Georgie?" Hermione wondered softly, thinking the worst. And for good reason, she realized, as a terrible sob ripped through George's body. Knowing what that meant, a single tear of her own escaped and made its lonely journey down her cheek. "Oh, Georgie."

She held him firmly while he cried himself dry, comforting him silently. There were no words she could find to make him hurt less, so she just let him cry. When he seemed to calm down, she coaxed him onto the couch. He had yet to let go of his desperate grip on her. Draco perched himself on the arm of the great orange couch and rested a reassuring hand on George's shoulder.

The ginger finally disentangled himself from Hermione and stared blankly at the ancient coffee table in front of it. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, tear tracks staining his flushed cheeks. He stared down at his shaking hands absently before placing them on his knees.

"What happened, mate?" Draco wondered in a soft, gentle voice. George shook his head. He simply flopped onto his side and curled himself into a pitiful ball. Sharing a concerned look with Hermione, Draco grabbed the blanket on the back of the couch and gently threw it over the forlorn boy. Hermione rose to her feet, Draco joining her soon after. Frowning worriedly at George's blank face, Hermione bent down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"Try to get some sleep, Georgie. We'll talk when you wake up?" Hermione encouraged softly.

When she received no response, Draco grabbed her hand and guided her up the stairs. Expecting only Hermione, Ginny and Cassie's eyes widened with surprise when Draco followed in behind, an apologetic look on his tired face.

"I'm not trying anything funny, but George is on the couch and I don't think it's wise to move him. Can Draco stay for just the night?" Hermione explained, suddenly finding herself utterly exhausted.

Frowning at her words, Cassie nodded slowly. "And Becs?"

Draco and Hermione exchanged a pained look before turning back to the former's little sister. Her silver eyes fell shut as she heaved a sigh. "I thought she would take it well. She's always been so open to everything. How could I have been so wrong?"

"It's not your fault," Draco reassured her, coming to sit beside her on her bed. "We're not sure what happened-he won't talk to us-but we got that much at least from the way he was behaving. We tucked him in and told him to talk to us in the morning."

Ginny, who had been silent until then, finally spoke up, worry written all over her face. "He's not going to be okay."

"We know," Hermione said with a sniffle, collapsing onto her bed and curling up into a ball in the same way George had. She felt the mattress sink behind her as Draco settled in behind her. She snuggled into his body when his arm fell over her waist. Her eyes closed as the room succumbed to darkness. Good nights were whispered followed by Ginny's cheeky, "And no funny stuff, lovebirds."

* * *

"Hey, did George and Becs make it back last night?" Harry asked in lieu of a good morning when he and Hermione stepped out of their rooms at the same time. Before she could answer, she saw his bespectacled eyes focus on something behind her. "Draco? Good morning," Harry greeted warily. His gaze flicked back and forth between the two and deduced from their expressions that they were not guilty of any rule breaking shenanigans, but carrying a worrying burden.

"He came back," Draco said heavily, "but not with Becs."

Harry winced, his heart breaking for his dear friend. "I'll go talk to him."

But Harry soon found that he could not.

"Where is he?"

The blanket Draco had draped over George was thrown to floor in a wadded mess, the cushions in a slight disarray. But there were no other signs of George. With the added help of Ginny and Cassie, the three searched high and low for the distraught boy. But there search was fruitless.

Molly and Arthur Weasley were greeted with grim faces when they made their way down the winding stairs. "Kids, why so glum?" Mr. Weasley teased cheerily until he received only grimmer faces.

"It's George."

"What about him?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, fear digging its unrelenting claws into her heart.

"He's, well, he's missing."

"Again?" Mr. Weasley sighed, sounding like the weight of the world had found itself a home on his shoulders. Hermione frowned at his question. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shared a dark look that Hermione didn't understand. Guilt gnawed at her when she realized that Harry and Ginny seemed to know exactly what he meant.

Ever the inquisitive witch, she had to ask. "What do you mean _again_?"

Ginny stepped forward as her mother found herself collapsed onto the couch, burrowing her face in her hands. Her husband gently settled beside her and wrapped a comforting arm around her. Hermione looked to the youngest Weasley for answers.

"Right after the final battle, George didn't really want to be anywhere," Ginny began slowly, biting her lip in thought as old memories came flooding back. "He would stay here, but never in their room, until suddenly he'd be gone. We'd find him all over the place. Sometimes back at Hogwarts. Sometimes in Diagon Alley just aimlessly wandering the streets. But never anywhere that was just for him and Fred. He never set foot in the joke shop again. Not once that we know of. But it was really hard. We wanted to help, but Hermione, he was so lost. So broken. Not that we weren't all a bit broken, but it obviously was the worst for him. But he'd go missing for days at a time. Never any warning. And wherever he went never helped; he always came back just the same or worse."

"Oh, Georgie," Hermione sniffled, "I should have been here for him. Instead, I just abandoned him. I was so selfish."

"Yes," Ginny agreed, "But from what I heard, you thought you lost the one you loved too. I don't think you'd have been much help, honestly. The past is the past. We have to deal with the present now. He's going to need help through this. And this time, you'll be here for him."

Harry came up beside Hermione and Ginny and nodded gravely. "Let's split up and start looking, yeah? I'll go with Cassie. Ginny, you take Ron. Hermione and Draco, you'll come too?"

"Obviously," Draco said immediately. He slipped his fingers through Hermione's, and with a wave of his wand, they popped out of the Burrow.

* * *

"Draco, we've been searching for _days_! How are we ever going to find him?" Hermione cried frantically. Not at first realizing that this complaint was far more despairing than the last several she'd made, Draco barely took notice and corrected her, "It's been two days. Two." That was until he heard her sniffling through her tears. He skidded to a halt and she practically crashed into him. Startled, she caught herself before she fell back and stared up at him through watery eyes.

Smiling down at her encouragingly, Draco said, "Need I remind you that we spent months going door to door at dentist offices to find your parents? And need I remind you again that we did, in fact, find them?"

"Yes, but it took months! And they were perfectly happy. But now, the longer we take to find George, the longer he has to wallow in misery alone! It's not good for him. He told me he didn't think he could live through losing someone else he loved!" Hermione shouted at him in a panicked voice.

Something in her words made Draco's blood run cold. He was unaccustomed to a Hermione who was anything but level headed, even in her worst moments, so her current state of desperation triggered something in his brain.

"You don't-you don't think he'd…do anything, do you?" Draco barely breathed out, fear slowly trickling its way into his mind. Panic being flushed down his veins with each pump of his heart. "You don't really think he'd…hurt himself."

Hermione's face had him throwing himself into the search with a whole new fervor.

* * *

"But they said he's never set foot in here after Fred died," Hermione repeated yet again. Draco nodded in response. "So you've said. Many times. But Hermione, we've tried everywhere else we could think of. Besides, Weasley Wizarding Wheezes is supposed to be open every day of the week. Even during the war they never closed for a single day. But look at the sign in the window."

She did.

"Closed until further notice."

They exchanged a look that was a conflicting mix of hope and dread before entering. The doors swung open with a lazy squeak, no locks, no wards to stop them. The shop was lit only by the oddly glowing products scattered about the store. A room that Hermione remembered to be so unbelievably vibrant and full of color and sound and movement was now an eerie, silent tomb.

Upon a thorough search of the seemingly never ending shop, the couple reunited with no results. Hermione pulled Draco to a plain section of wall behind the counter and muttered a quick incantation under her breath. A narrow doorway shimmered into existence and brought with it a winding set of stairs.

Draco followed Hermione as she cautiously made her way up the stone steps. At the top, she gently pushed aside a midnight blue curtain and stepped inside Fred and George's flat. She had only been there twice in her life, but the twins had made sure she knew how to get in if she ever needed a safe place. She had never needed it, but she was suddenly grateful that they had cared so much for her.

Especially as her eyes landed on the pitiful creature sprawled across the couch in the center of the room.

"George!" she shrieked, frozen in place. Draco, on the other hand, burst to life and sprinted over to the boy on the couch. He hovered over the pale body, frantically looking for any signs of life. George's skin was deathly white, his limbs bent at odd angles, half on the couch, half on the floor like he'd collapsed there. Hermione rushed to his side, her knees crashing to the floor. She shook him with all her might. "No, George! No, you can't! You can't!"

Draco watched grimly as Hermione buried her head against George's chest, her body shaking with sobs. But a low groan made the both of their hearts skip a beat.

"Ugh, wasss dat noise?" a voice slurred. "Five mo' mins, Mum."

Hermione's body wrenched away from George's, her mouth forming a perfect, surprised 'O'. "George?"

A hand with long slim fingers halfheartedly reached out and weakly waved in her direction. "Too noisy," he whined.

"George!" the brunette witch shouted. The boy in question jumped in a sluggish surprise, the rest of him falling off the couch with an unceremonious thump. The ginger blearily blinked up at her through glassy eyes. "Her- _hiccup_ -mi-hermi-mione?"

With a disgusted scoff, Hermione kicked George away from her and sprung angrily to her feet. "You're drunk?!"

George smiled sloppily, looking a touch sheepish as he pinched two fingers close together, "Jussa lil'."

"You miserable, wretched little troll!" Hermione raged. "I thought you were alone because you were grieving, not getting plastered! I was worried sick about you, but you were hiding out here to drink this whole time? I should beat you senseless, you ungrateful git!"

* * *

"Thanks for not letting her beat me senseless," George said glumly to Draco, wincing as he drank the hangover potion Draco had whipped up for him. The blonde nodded in understanding, casting a wary eye to the pacing witch in the living room. "I'm not exactly proud of myself."

"I know," Draco said. He stewed over his next sentence for a moment before putting it out there anyway. "She was scared, you know. About what you would do. You told her that you didn't think you could live through losing anyone else. She had some…unpleasant concerns running through her head."

The ginger looked up at him, his matching brows knit in confusion before his eyes lit up with understanding. "She didn't think…oh, Merlin."

"Yeah. You looked pretty dead when we came in. You confirmed her fears but then ended up just being piss drunk. But she'll come around," Draco explained. George, if possible, looked even guiltier after Draco's admission.

The former Slytherin followed George into the living room, clearing his throat to catch his witch's attention. She whirled on George, but before she could start the righteous rant at the tip of her tongue, George rushed out his apology.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry. So sorry I ever gave you the thought that I would hurt myself," he blurted out. At his words, Hermione softened. George coaxed her into a seat on the couch beside him. He found it hard to meet either of their eyes, so he focused his on his wringing hands. "That's not to say that I haven't had some of those thoughts before. I was inconsolable right after Fred died. I'm sad to say I was weak enough to think about it. But when I thought about how the rest of the family would feel losing the both of us, and it turned me off the idea forever."

Hermione wrapped her arms around him and held him fiercely for a moment. "Thank you for telling me, George."

He squeezed her tighter in return. "The only ones I've ever admitted that to were Harry and…"

"Becs?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

George, freeing himself from the younger witch's grasp, fell back against the couch. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Honestly? I'm not sure. It was going so well. Or so I thought."

* * *

"So, you went to a magical school to learn about magic because you _are_ magic?" Becs asked slowly, trying to wrap her head around it.

"Yeah, sort of."

"Wow, that's…wow."

George looked to her expectantly. "What do you want to know? You must have questions." He suddenly found himself eager to share everything with her. He hadn't realized how much it had been hurting him to keep his world from her.

"Um, I don't even know where to start, George," she laughed nervously. George stiffened a little bit at her choice of name. She hardly ever called him George. It was always Red. Worry started to nag at the back of his mind, but then she held his wand out to him and said, "Show me."

So he had. Simple spells. Pretty magic. Things that made her smile in wonder. She watched his Patronus stalk the air above them, her wide eyes glued to the ghostly blue coyote. She insisted she tell him all about Hogwarts.

"I'm sorry. Your school was called _Hogwarts_?" she giggled when she caught the name. He frowned, not understanding her amusement. "Of course. It's the finest magical institution there is," he said seriously. Then, with a wink, he added, "Not that I graduated."

"You rebel, you," she teased.

As the night approached, bringing with it long shadows and increased yawns, George and Becs found themselves settled comfortably on her hotel bed. They lay side by side in silence for a short time before Becs rolled to face George, arm propping her head up. In the dim light of the cozy room, and the sleepy look on George's sweet face, Becs felt the ever nagging question rise to her lips. She brushed his hair away from his damaged ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he shivered at her touch.

"How?" was all she ended up asking.

And into the early hours of the morning, George told the girl of his dreams the darkest memories he had. Many he had refused to remember until that very night.

"We were trying to get Harry to safety, you see. And so half of us were disguised as him. But we had a spy and the bad guys, the Death Eaters, knew what was going on. I got hit by a spell, Sectumsempra, that's meant to cut with no chance of healing. But it was intentionally ill aimed to miss the vital parts of me. That's how I lost the ear," George finished with a tired yawn.

Becs was grateful that they had been completely bathed in darkness. She didn't want George to see her face right then. He seemed so content, even as he relived what was a traumatizing memory. She, on the other hand, was barely keeping it together. Everything he told her and showed her leading up to that moment was coming crashing down on her.

"You know what, Red, I think the tiger story was actually more believable," she tried to tease nonchalantly. He seemed to hear nothing out of ordinary in her voice, because moments later, he fell asleep with his hand in hers.

Becs lay in the black of the night and tried to focus on the sound of George's breathing. She had always had trouble sleeping until she had started sharing a bed with him. She used to be able to just focus on his breathing and then be out like a light. She had no such luck. Her mind was racing. There was a whole other world out there that she had never, and had she not met George, would never have known about. And it sounded like a violent one. She was used to the quiet beach life. Not sinister dark wizards trying to kill young children and spells that sliced off body parts. It was too much, too fast, and suddenly George's breathing was the only thing keeping her awake.

George woke only two hours later to the red light of the clock blinking a lonely 2:04. With a groan, he rolled over to reach out for Becs. Only, he was met with cold, empty sheets. He pulled himself up slowly, sleep addled mind racing to wake up. He frowned when his hand brushed something papery.

Whispering a quick _Lumos_ , George read the note that brought his world crashing down around him for the second time in his life.

* * *

"All she left was this. Her stuff was gone and so was she," George said pitifully. "Go ahead, read it."

"George," Draco started as both the said boy and Hermione were too out of it to read. "I am so sorry to leave you this way. You've shared all of you with me at last, and I'm responding in the worst way. I do love you. All of you. Even this crazy part in which magic apparently exists. I know that I love you all the same. But I also know that this is madness. You showed me such beautiful things tonight. Things I will always cherish. But you also spoke of terrible things, George. Violence and murder and war. That is a lot to wrap my head around in such a short amount of time. It's too much for me. I want you, I love you, but I don't know if I can handle the whole other world that comes with you. I know that you're still torn up over your brother. Because of that I don't want you to think me leaving like this is you losing someone all over again. I just need some time to come to terms with all of this. Give me that? Just a few days? Love, Becs."

The three sat in a solemn silence for a moment or two, replaying Becs's words in their heads. Draco was the first to break it. "Well, there is still some hope, George."

"How?" he wondered hopelessly, "I was right. It was too much for her. I scared her off."

Draco nodded in agreement, but continued, "You did. But she did say that she's thinking about it. Mate, this isn't a good-bye letter. It's not final. She's not telling you she never wants to see you again. It's a give me space letter. Becs wants a few days? Well, she's already gotten two. Maybe she won't need too many more. She had to have agreed she was serious enough about you to get married at some point, George. You wouldn't have been able to tell her if she hadn't. So, I don't think someone who was willing to commit to the idea of marriage so early in a relationship will be so easy to scare off for forever."

George seemed to perk up at the thought. "Maybe you're right. I was just so crushed. My worst fear come true. I can wait. I think. But if she doesn't come soon, I'm going after her."

"Fair enough, mate," Draco said.

Hermione rose to her feet and held out a hand to George. "Let's get you home, shall we?"

"I suppose."

* * *

Good news was not awaiting the trio upon their return to George's childhood home.

Cassie ran up to George the moment he stumbled through the door. "Good! You're okay! Great!"

"Cassie, why are you shouting?" George questioned warily. The nervous shrill in her voice was not a promising tone. Her silver eyes flickered nervously and her smile was forced. "Uh, just happy to see you're okay."

He shot her an odd look before crossing the room to hug and apologize to his mother for the hundredth time. After a few scolding words from her, George's good ear picked up a sharp cry of, "She didn't!"

The ginger whipped around to find the owner of the voice blushing and avoiding his gaze. "She didn't what, 'Mione?"

Hermione bit her lip as she lifted her gaze to his. "Becs. Apparently, she's left for home. She's already on her way to Australia."

George let out a sigh, his eyes on Draco. "Well, I guess that answers that question." The blonde nodded in understanding. He and Hermione were the only ones who understood why George had once again disappeared without a word.

"I hope it works out for them, Draco," Hermione murmured sadly. He squeezed her hand. In a low voice, so as not to attract unwanted listeners, he wondered, "Do you think it's time for us, too?"

* * *

George gathered the last of his belongings from his room in his flat above the joke shop. He slowly made his way down the winding, narrow stairs that led to the shop floor. When he reached the counter, he placed his hands against the smooth oak and took a shaky breath. His eyes surveyed the dark room filled with the combined musings of his and the brother he would never plot and scheme with again. He felt a gaping hole in his chest so big he feared it would consume him whole. A single tear ran down his cheek, the ache in his heart so acute he knew it would never fade.

"I miss you, Freddie. I miss you so damn much. I'm not whole without you," George cried into the empty shop, his forlorn voice echoing back at him. "I never thought I'd make it this far without you by my side. But here I am. And I've been wasting it. Wasting what you didn't get to have. I turned my back on our work. Not mine. _Our_. Because even with you gone, it will always be you and me. Forever. But I promise I'm going to fix it. I promise I'm going to try. I started to, with Becs. And I swear it won't end like this. I'm going to make it right. And then I'm going to make it better. Make _me_ better."

The young man righted himself, teasing himself for talking to the air. Shaking his head, he lamented, "No wonder she doesn't want me, I'm a loon." But he didn't care. Not really. "I'm leaving, Gred. Back to Australia. Mum'll kill me, but I know I've got to. I may never be complete, but she helps fill the hole you left behind. You would have loved her. I know you would."

George made his way to the front doors of the shop, a lump in his throat the size of a Chocolate Frog. He paused in the doorway. With a wistful smile, George turned back to the empty store and whispered, "I love you, Freddie. Wish me luck."

* * *

 _ **A/N: This story has been a great project so far, and I can't thank you enough who have stuck with me through it! As always, please, please let me know what you think! Any requests for things to happen before the end? Leave them in a review and I'll see what I can do =)**_


	35. Won't Be So Easy

_Chapter Thirty-Five_  
 _Won't Be So Easy_

The lone street light at the corner of the town square hummed softly, its warm glow bathing the street as a red haired wizard popped into existence. The lanky boy stumbled out of the air and into a frantic run. His long legs propelled him down the sidewalk with a desperate purpose. He didn't care that it was the middle of the night. He didn't care that he was probably going to fail. He didn't care, he didn't care, he didn't care, for once he didn't care.

He only needed to see her. Regret had taken over so much of who he was that he couldn't bear to let it poison the hope and love he had learned to feel around her. So much time he had wasted caring about what would happen if she knew the truth. So much time spent worrying. He threw it out the window. He didn't care if it was crazy. He didn't care at all.

He only needed to see her.

"George?" Becs cried in surprise, the blonde's face lighting up before falling again. Ecstatic to see him until it dawned on her that she was face to face with the boy she had run away from. It was encouraging to the Weasley boy, however, even when her face fell into a nervous frown. She had to remind herself that she didn't want to see him.

"I'm in love with you, Rebekah," George blurted out in a huff of breaths. There was a painful twinge in his side from running, his hair was blown askew, and he was most certain he had a mad gleam in his eyes. "I'm in love with you, and I don't want to lose you. You've completely changed my whole world. I was lost when I met you. Barely surviving. But you brought me back from the brink without even realizing it. So, just tell me, please, what can I do to make this easier for you? I already lost Fred. I can't lose you, too. Please, how can I-"

George's heartfelt rant was cut short by the crush of lips against his.

The ginger clutched her to him determinedly, very much intending to never let her go. He tried to pour everything he was feeling into the kiss, knowing that it didn't mean they were automatically okay. Despite the fact that he was trying to be romantic and had honest intentions of wooing her back, he soon found himself crashing through her tiny apartment with a comforting familiarity.

Her bedroom door fell shut with a soft click and the couple was lost to the world.

* * *

"Are you certain that you two have to leave?" Ginny questioned again for the hundredth time that morning. She needn't have asked. The girl was staring at the bags by Hermione's feet with a resigned sadness.

Draco came swooping into the room, bringing with him an excited air, and draped an arm across Ginny's shoulders. "It's okay, Weaselette. You're welcome to visit us whenever."

"It's not the same! I haven't seen Hermione in over a year!" Ginny pouted childishly, "I wish you would stay longer!"

The blonde smiled at her in understanding before retracting his arm. "I know. She's rather incredible, isn't she? I'd miss her, too. But the truth is, Australia is where we need to be. We've got unfinished business that needs taking care of. Then…who knows?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at his dramatics before pulling Ginny in for a much needed hug. "I promise I won't disappear this time. I know that's what you're all worried about," she whispered into her friend's ear. Ginny sagged against her, the tension in her body melting away at the words. "I know. At least I knew you had him. But I still missed you something awful."

"You'll have to come visit. If we stay put there, that is," Hermione insisted, pulling away. Ginny's arms fell to her sides limply as she nodded enthusiastically. "And who knows, maybe we can come see you in America. Go to a game or two?"

Hermione found herself tackled to the floor with an unexpected bear hug from Ginny. Laughing all the while, the girls untangled themselves and struggled to their feet. When they regained their sanity, Hermione was suddenly aware of Draco's absence. Frowning, she left Ginny to go in search of the boy.

Her heart all but melted when she found him.

"Mr. Weasley, thank you, sir," Draco said genuinely looking into the surprised face of Arthur Weasley. From her hiding spot in the doorway, Hermione witnessed the heartwarming scene. Mr. Weasley offered a hopeful hand out to Draco. Staring at it in wonder, he tentatively reached his own out. The patriarch of the Weasley clan grasped it in his own and gave it a hearty shake.

"Think nothing of it, son. You just take care of our Hermione dear, understand?" Mr. Weasley said warmly, a wide grin splitting his face. Draco nodded solemnly despite the elder man's cheer. "She is everything to me, sir. I will not let her down."

Before the situation could get more intense than Draco's declaration, Mrs. Weasley stepped in with an armful of goodies. "Alright deary, I've got these for the road. I packed some of Hermione's favorites, and tucked in a few surprises for the two of you. Now, if you need anything more, you just-Oh!"

Hermione's hand flew up to cover her mouth before her giggles could burst through her lips. Mrs. Weasley was effectively cut off by Draco's entirely unexpected hug. Molly Weasley's face flushed a vivid crimson in surprise before her motherly features melted into a pleasant smile. She wrapped her arms around the young man and gave him a good squeeze.

"Mrs. Weasley. I cannot thank you enough for the kindness you have shown me this past week. Before Hermione, I had never known people like you could truly exist. And I deeply regret all of the shameful words I ever uttered against your wonderful family. You should have spat in my face, but instead you welcomed me into your home. And if that wasn't enough, you accepted Hermione's choice. I know I am not who anyone would hope for someone they love as much as you love Hermione, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being so kind. You mean the world to her, and I was so afraid I would ruin that for her," Draco said after releasing the woman, his cheeks pink, but his words sincere.

At his uncharacteristically long winded speech, Mrs. Weasley's eyes widened comically and it was Draco who found himself the victim of an unexpected hug. "Oh," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, "Oh my."

Hermione took that as an opportunity to enter as Draco had gone somewhat rigid in the woman's arms. He really wasn't one for too much physical affection, and he was only beginning to realize what he had gotten himself into.

"Oh don't be so flattered, Mrs. Weasley, he really only liked the sweater. He's just too proud to admit that," Hermione teased as she waltzed into the living room. The woman broke away from Draco with a laugh. He shot her a playful glare that whispered a relieved, "Thanks."

"He has worn it quite a bit more than I expected," Mrs. Weasley observed with a pleased grin.

Draco, clearly uncomfortable at the attention he was receiving, mumbled a nearly incoherent excuse before darting out of the room. His cheeks burned as their laughter chased after him.

"Oh, Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley sighed contently, "I do believe you found yourself a good one."

Hermione was smiling after the embarrassed boy's receding figure. "Yes. I do believe I have."

* * *

"It doesn't feel right to leave you after everything that's happened," Draco said softly, his eyes meeting those of his little sister. She smiled up at him warmly. "It's okay. We both know each other now. We both know that the other is out there. We'll figure it all out. I promise."

"But I've only just found you," Draco repeated sadly. He shuddered to think about the dark days that had followed her supposed death and the nightmares that plagued him for all the years after. They had all been for naught. And because of that, he had a hard time letting her go so soon after discovering her. Especially when he had spent the first week after seeing her in the most notorious wizarding prison in the world. Not quite the ideal reunion he might have wished for.

But any reunion at all was better than none after all they had been through.

"I have to stay here, Draco," Cassie insisted, a torn look on her face, "I want to get to know her. I want to get to know our mother."

Draco nodded in understanding. "I'm glad. I just wish you didn't have to be so far away to do so."

"I know. But you told me she was worth another chance," Cassie said softly, worry seeping into her silver eyes. He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Take all the time you need, Cass. She's not going anywhere. Don't try to force it. You're scared, I get that. So just take it slow."

He didn't quite understand the twisted smile that graced her lips as she looked up at him. "Scared?" she echoed, "Never. How could I be knowing I've got a big brother as brave and wonderful as you?"

Hermione came into the living room to find the love of her life in a blubbering mess. Cassie ran her fingers through his hair as he sobbed into the crook of her neck. She couldn't hear what the younger girl was saying, but her lips were moving against his ear and he tightened his grip on her.

It warmed Hermione's heart to see the two of them together. There were many times throughout their friendship when she would catch him staring off into space with a melancholic expression in his eyes. Eyes that had already seen too much before the war even broke out. Ever since the night they shared cupcakes on Cassie's birthday, she had known that those quiet little moments of his where spent in memory of her.

It tore her up, catching those moods of his. They were rare, and he usually tried to hide them, but she knew. She always knew. And she never said a word of it unless he wanted to. He hardly ever did. But she knew how heartbroken he still was, even though he tried to bury it deep in his mind.

It was strange to her. Though, after her life, she shouldn't have found anything strange. But nonetheless, it was strange to her to see him in the arms of the girl he had spent so much of his life mourning. It was wonderful, of course. But it was yet another oddity that she mentally cataloged with all of the others she had been witness to. The first oddity on her list being her Hogwarts letter naturally.

She let the thought drift off, and with it, she left the two blondes alone.

* * *

"You'd best take care of her, Potter," Draco drawled out in a menacing tone. Hermione tutted at him and gave him a good whack on the arm. He shot her an unimpressed look. "Just because I told you she could have done worse than him doesn't mean I'm not going to give him the 'hurt her I'll kill you speech'. It's my right as a brother. And since it's not something I'd ever thought I'd be again, let me have this moment, will you?"

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Fine."

Harry, meanwhile, watched the exchange with an amused grin. He enjoyed watching Hermione ruffle Draco's feathers. It was a far more enjoyable sport now that he knew it was love and not hate behind it.

"See what you've done?" Draco complained, throwing a hand Harry's way, "You've ruined the effect. Now he's laughing at me. He should be cowering in fear in the wake of my terrifying threat!"

Hermione stood on her tip toes and pressed a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I'm sure he gets the message, dear. Now, are you finished being ridiculous?"

The scowl she remembered all too well from their childhood made an appearance. "Oh, don't get all pouty with me, Draco Malfoy. You want a terrifying threat yourself?"

It deepened at her words and Harry's entertained laugh.

"It's okay, Malfoy," Harry chuckled, "I had a whole speech of my own planned out for you and Hermione, but I don't think I could ever be scarier than her. Good luck, mate."

The scowl dissolved into a small smile as he glance down at the witch shuffling their bags closer. "I'll need it," he said fondly. Then, the smile settled into a stern line. "But seriously, you had better take care of my sister if you know what's good for you."

Harry's jovial mood vanished and he once again became war time Harry. Back straight, eyes ahead, jaw locked. He nodded solemnly. "I think you know I'd do anything to keep her safe."

Draco eyed the serious boy from head to toe. For once, he wasn't seeing the boy he had always been so jealous of. He wasn't seeing the Boy-Who-Lived. He was instead seeing a boy. A boy who was alive. A boy who, like him, had a world he did not want or understand thrust upon him. He saw a boy with untold sorrow in his too old eyes. A boy who felt fiercely. A boy who had been to hell and back and somehow found the will to carry on. He saw a boy. He saw a boy who, like him, had become a man.

"I do, Harry, I do."

* * *

Roo let out a disgruntled meow as he and his owners popped back into existence in their deeply missed living room. The gray cat leapt from Hermione's arms and darted off. The two fell into a silence after Roo's happy mews faded away.

They stood side by side in the dark unable to believe that they were back home.

"Draco," Hermione began, her voice shaking, "The last time I stood here…oh Merlin. Draco, the last time I stood here, I never thought I'd see you again."

Draco caught her in his arms as she fell against him in a mess of tears. He gently guided her onto the couch and let her curl up in his lap. A content hum escaped his chest as her curls overwhelmed him. He smiled to himself as he soothed the distraught girl. "I should have known, you know. You're too damn focused. I should have known you hadn't let yourself cry. That you've had this all bottled up."

"I-I was-t-too busy," she sobbed into his chest. He rolled his eyes lovingly and held her tighter. "I love you, you mad witch. I love you so, so much."

* * *

"This doesn't mean everything's okay, George," Becs said softly. George shivered as her breath blew across his bare chest. She didn't protest when he pulled her closer. "I know," he sighed into the dark room.

Her finger traced abstract patterns across his stomach, and he knew she was deep in thought. It was one of the millions of little quirks that drew him to her.

"You're a wizard," she stated abruptly.

"I am."

"You own a joke shop."

"I do."

"It's magical."

"It is."

"I'm not leaving Australia."

"Of course."

"This magic thing scares me."

"I understand."

"It's beautiful."

"It can be."

"You love me."

"More than anything."

"Okay."

George froze. "Okay what?" he asked slowly, as if somehow drawing the question out would lessen the blow of her answer.

"Okay."

"That's not exactly specific, now is it?" he chuckled nervously.

Becs pulled herself off of his chest only to redistribute herself so that she was practically on top of him. He could feel her breath on his lips and he scarcely dared breathe. "I love you, too. And while all of this is massively overwhelming, I don't want it to come between us. I'd like to take that part of your life slow. But this part? The part with just you and me and no one and nothing else? That part I want forever. And I want it now."

"What are you saying?" George asked cautiously, not daring to get his hopes up despite her promising words. He settled his hands lightly on her waist. He wasn't sure if he wished he could see her face or not. The dark suddenly seemed too much for him. He wanted to see her kind eyes, her rosy cheeks. He needed something to anchor him to that moment in time. With her body warm against his, her heart beating with his.

"I'm saying that it won't be so easy to get rid of me. I don't want to lose you either, Red. Just be patient with me while I sort all this wizard stuff out, okay?"

George would swear till that day he died that his heart grew wings and took flight in that moment. Becs had initially freaked out not knowing enough about wizarding culture to realize that, no, that was not something that could really happen.

But George had a right good laugh about it after.

* * *

 ** _A/N: So, what do you think? Please leave a review and let me know! It means the absolute world to me! This is the fastest I've ever written a story, and that's because I just love it. I never thought anything would become of it when I started. This story came to be through two completely separate ideas for oneshots I had that I decided to somehow put together. And I'm so happy it worked out. Thank you sosososo much to everyone who has stuck with this story. I am happy/sad to say that there is only one chapter to go!_**

 ** _Edit: Okay, I hate to be like this but...if you don't like Hermione and Draco together, then just don't read a story with them as the main pairing. There's no need to leave so many reviews about how Hermione's horrible and how Draco should be put to death. I mean, honestly, it's only a story about a story. Calm down and read something else._**

 ** _Sorry, I just thought it rather unnecessary._**


	36. So Much More

_**Chapter Thirty-Six**_  
 _ **So Much More**_

Amelia Granger had not seen her older cousin in nearly a year. Once as close as sisters, the girls sat in a comfortable silence, the unspoken happiness and excitement intoxicating. Amelia realized how alike and unlike it was to the last time her beloved cousin was in her home. A year ago, it felt like it wasn't even her cousin sitting next to her. But now, with the beaming girl beside her, it felt like she had never left.

The year in which they had hardly spoken had faired Hermione Granger well.

The formerly distraught shell of a girl had once again returned out of the blue. In tow was the mysterious blonde that had blown in their door not too long ago. Hand in hand, they crossed the threshold, only to be immediately tackled by a small blur.

"Can we play dragons now?" Steven cried hopefully, his small arms wrapped around Draco's legs. The blonde recovered from his surprise and beamed at the little boy. "Why, of course, Steven. Why else do you think I came back? I still owe you the story about how Hermione freed that Swedish Short-Snout."

Steven gazed up at the tall boy in utter awe. Hermione tsked and playfully hit Draco on the arm. "It was a Ukrainian Ironbelly, Draco. Why can you never get it right?"

He smirked devilishly at her and murmured quietly, "You know how I feel about it when you correct me all high and mighty like that."

Hermione flushed a vivid crimson, because she _definitely_ knew how he felt about that. And it was not a feeling appropriate for company. With a nervous chuckle, she shoved him into the room and declared, "We also brought a surprise with us!"

Amelia watched in confusion at Amos' side as Hermione disappeared out the door again. Draco stepped to the side just as Hermione returned. The mug in Amos' hand fell to the floor and shattered. He didn't even flinch at the sound. His world had narrowed down to the brother he had not heard a word from in nearly three years.

"Andrew?"

"Amos," Drew Granger said in a tone that sounded almost like relief. He had barely opened his arms before Amos had barreled across the room to bear hug his older brother.

"Where the bloody hell have you been, you beautiful bastard!" Amos shouted through his happy laughter. He clung to his unexpectedly tanned brother like he'd never let go. "Not a word in years! And then you show up out of the blue like nothing's happened."

Drew caught his daughter's eye across the room and shot her a pointed look as he said, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Hermione willed the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She had done this. She had caused this sadness that had estranged the family she loved. Her parents had forgiven her, of course, but the situation was far from perfect.

Upon their return to Australia, Hermione and Draco had taken the time to properly plan out how they wanted to return her parents memories. It had taken a few weeks, but they had finally managed to fully return Drew and Helen Granger's memories. It had been a stressful time to say the least. Draco had rocked a sobbing Hermione to sleep countless times in the wake of endless arguments.

Her parents had been at first relieved. Their baby had survived the war. She had helped the good guys win. But then, ultimately, the outrage set in. Once the initial relief wore off, it gave way to fury. They felt betrayed and untrusted. She had taken a precious thing from them without asking, and they were not ready to forgive that. She had taken their free will away. Their own daughter hadn't trusted them to make the decision on their own. She had done it for them. They were grateful, of course, that she had saved them. Her parents were just disappointed that she hadn't trusted them enough to explain her plan.

Draco himself was another point of contention. He was quickly remembered as the horrid little boy that had bullied their baby girl. Hermione was quick to remind them that she had told them that she and Draco had become friends in fourth year. Their next disapproval was the young couple's living situation. Drew and Helen were less than impressed that they had been living alone together. They were too young in their opinion. They trusted Hermione to make smart choices, but she was their only child, after all. They didn't want her growing up too fast.

The more time they spent with the young couple, however, Drew and Helen came to realize that perhaps they had missed it anyway. They hardly knew the extent of what their daughter had been through, but they could no longer see a little girl. They saw nothing but a beautiful, poised woman before them. Graceful and kind. Loving and wise beyond her years.

And Draco, ever the gentlemen, proper to the point of painful, had eyes for nothing but her. There was no denying the intense love that was shared between the two teens.

Hermione was pulled out of her reminiscing at the sound of a girlish squeal. Beside her, Draco jumped and whirled his head around to the noise. The two tried not to visibly grimace as Anna and Lisa sauntered their way into the kitchen. Her cousins immediately ceased their conversation when they caught sight of Draco and Hermione.

"Oh, it's you. We kind of expected you to disappear for a few years again," Anna admitted with a shrug. Lisa, on the other hand, looked genuinely curious about their presence. "Did I hear Uncle Drew?"

Hermione's face lit up at the question. "Yes! Mum and Dad decided to come for a visit, too. They wanted to catch up."

Anna rolled her eyes in disinterest and took her leave. To her surprise, Lisa didn't follow. The girl looked uncertain before she questioned quietly, "So, Australia? Was it amazing?"

Chuffed to bits that her normally distant cousin was actually interested in her life, Hermione gushed to her about the lovely country.

"I've always wanted to go. Figures you'd beat us all there," Lisa sighed resignedly. "You always were so much better than the rest of us."

Hermione paused at her unexpected words. "Wh-what?"

Lisa rolled her eyes but not unkindly. "Best grades in school? Scholarship to some fancy boarding school? Bushy hair gone beautiful? Insanely gorgeous boyfriend?"

Draco blushed at the sudden complement and teasing wink from the girl he had met only once. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and beamed down at Hermione. "Insanely gorgeous?"

She swatted him away absently, "Yes, yes. You're beautiful. We know. Anyway, you think that? I always thought you lot thought I was a freak."

"Oh, we definitely do," Lisa said with a laugh, "But success and happiness brings out the worst in people. I'm sorry that you only ever got to know the most awful parts of me. I can be nice, too. I've grown up a lot in the last year. I was hoping you would give me a second chance and get to know my best parts, too."

Draco was shoved to the side as Hermione launched herself at her younger cousin. The slip of a girl was nearly taken off her feet by the hug, but she didn't seem to mind. A small smile made its way across his face, but it slipped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Turning to face the owner of the hand, Draco let out a relieved sigh when he came face to face with a grinning Amos. "Draco. It's good to see you, son."

He couldn't hold back the smile that begged to be released at the word. Draco had kept in touch with Amos during their travels. He had been serious in his promise to take care of Hermione, and he had let Amos know it along the way. He was a warm, welcoming father figure that Draco had lacked in his own. Though he could never explain just why his continued support meant so much to him, Draco knew without a doubt that Amos understood on some instinctual level.

"I kept her safe. Like you asked. Not that she's ever needed me for that," Draco said with a soft chuckle. Amos took in his radiant niece, his pearly whites revealed by a wide smile. With a hard pat on the back, Amos commended him, "You've done a hell of a job regardless."

Amos found himself pulled into a brief but heartfelt hug by the young man. From the little he knew when he had met the boy in person, Amos had gathered that he wasn't the touchy feely sort. It made the unexpected hug all the more meaningful. He squeezed the boy tight before they pulled apart. The blonde was desperately trying to keep the embarrassed flush from his face, but he was failing miserably.

"Your letters…they meant a great deal to me. I-I just want to thank you," Draco managed to stammer out. With a curt nod, he darted from the room in search of Hermione. Shaking his head with an amused grin on his face, Amos poured himself a fresh cup of tea.

* * *

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" George questioned for the hundredth time that day. Becs rolled her eyes in an amused exasperation. The avid surfer reached a tanned hand out to cradle the ginger's cheek. The sweet look in her eyes melted his nerves, and he leaned into her warm touch. He pulled back sharply in shock when her gentle hand slapped him a little more forcefully than could be considered playful.

"Don't look at me like a wounded puppy," she admonished as the boy rubbed his stinging cheek with a pout. In truth, it hadn't hurt as much as surprised him. "You're driving me mental, Red. Do you know how many times you've asked me that today? I am more than ready. I think the question is are _you_? Because it seems to me like you're very much not."

The prankster had the mind to be sheepish because, as always, Becs was right on. "I _am_ ready," he argued, standing up to stand in front of her. She had to crane her neck up to look at him. He took her face in his hands with a tenderness that made her heart weep. "I want you to know all of me. But a part of me is still scared that if I do, it will send you running."

Becs raised her hands up to curl around the wrists on either side of her face, thumbs rubbing gentle circles against his freckled skin. "It won't. I've seen so much of your crazy world, now, Georgie. I haven't run again. I want this. Us. Nothing you can throw at me now is going to change that."

It hurt her to see the pained look in George's eyes. The girl was momentarily frozen when the boy ungracefully threw himself into a dramatic heap on the couch.

"But that was fun stuff!" he protested, tossing his arm over his eyes. "This is my family we're taking about!"

He felt the seat beside him dip under the weight of his bemused girlfriend. "They'll scare you off quicker than any magic I can show you!" he whined mournfully. George felt a warm weight settle across him and opened his eyes to meet Becs'. "Quit being a chicken and let's go already."

Muttering to himself, George brought them to their feet reluctantly. He smile down at the lovely girl he had somehow made his own and offered an apologetic smile. "This isn't going to feel very pleasant, I'm sorry."

With a determined expression, Becs grabbed a hold of George's hand and the ratty tennis shoe he had claimed was their transportation.

* * *

At the sound of aggravated cursing and someone losing the contents of their stomach, the noisy din of the Burrow quieted momentarily. After no entrance was made in the following few minutes, the occupants returned to their conversations heartily. Draco and Hermione shared a knowing grin with Harry and Cassie.

"Poor girl," Hermione said with an empathetic tone, "Portkey travel is the worst even when you're used to it."

Before her friends could agree with her, yet another red head of hair was added to the already considerable sea of flames in the cramped house. Following closely behind was a familiar set of dirty blonde curls. With an excited squeal from Cassie, Becs found herself caught in a fierce, rib-cracking hug.

Laughing happily as she spun the younger girl around, Becs cried, "I missed you so much, Cass! I've felt so abandoned!"

Beside the embracing girls, George pretended to be put out, "Oi, what am I? Shark bait?"

The girl shot him a cheeky grin he couldn't help but adore. He was only pulled out of his daze by the clearing of his throat. Following the noise, he realized with a start that the entirety of the Weasley clan and then some were staring at him expectantly.

Seeing that Cassie had released his girlfriend, George grabbed her hand and tugged her into the room. Twirling her around, he beamed vibrantly as he introduced her. "Family, I want to formally introduce you to the love of my life!"

Becs, usually so cool under pressure, blushed fiercely at his introduction. She swatted at him in embarrassment. "Are you kidding me? That's what you're going with?"

Not shameful in the slightest, George continued to look like the cat who ate the canary as he added, "Her name is Becs."

The next hour was a whirlwind of faces and names for the poor girl, but she held her own quite wonderfully. George was standing in a circle with his friends fondly watching his mother dote on Becs.

"George, it's so good to see you this happy," Hermione said sincerely, catching the ginger's attention. He grinned fully, the smile reaching his eyes in a way none of them had seen since his twin's demise.

"I could say the same for you lot," he said truthfully. While he had kept in touch with his family perhaps more sparingly than he should have, George had near constant contact with the group of three he was standing with.

Draco and Hermione had returned to Australia shortly after he had, and they began meeting weekly for dinner. They had helped him and Becs sort through their early struggles with the magical world. George regretted not being able to console Hermione when her parents had her down, but she swore his presence was help enough. And though he had liked the boy enough to push him to Hermione, George soon found himself with another brother in Draco.

Harry, having long since been another brother to him, had kept in touch as best he could. Fully accepting that Cassie had complete control over him, Harry had remained in England for a time. George missed his roommate something terrible, but he knew that Harry wanted to be there for Cassie when she finally agreed to meet with Narcissa.

* * *

"I won't do it."

"Cassie, come on."

"No. I won't."

"Just one dinner."

"No."

"Not even for me?"

"No?"

"What about for Malfoy?"

"Who? Me?"

"Don't be smart. Your brother."

Cassie pouted somewhat seriously at his pestering. In truth, she knew she was grateful for it, but she had a hunch it was her deep seated Malfoy pride that was keeping her from admitting it. "I don't want to see her."

"You'll never be able to move on from it if you don't at least try to talk to her," Harry argued gently, pulling the blonde into his arms. Her own remained stubbornly by her side, but she couldn't resist cuddling up to his chest. He couldn't understand what she mumbled into his chest, so he had to ask her to repeat it.

"I already moved on. I found Drake. I found you. That's all I need," Cassie explained simply. "I'm happy. Why bring up the bad memories again?"

Harry gently pushed her away enough to have her catch his gaze. She was once again struck by the swirl of emotions that brought those emerald eyes to life. "Okay, I'm going to pull a rather underhanded card, forgive me," he apologized sheepishly, "I lost my own mum before I could even remember her. Yes, your mum did some terrible, misguided things. But she does love you. And most importantly, she is still alive. So, if not for you, then meet with her for me. We both missed out on our mothers' love, but it's not too late for you to have it now."

Harry's heart skipped a beat as her beautiful features twisted into a pained frown. He hated to see anything but a smile on her face. Just before he could started berating himself for having taken it too far, the girl slumped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his middle.

"Curse you for being so inspirational and thoughtful," she mumbled against his chest. "Now I see why Drake thinks you're so insufferable."

"It's a habit of –hey! I am not insufferable!" Harry cried indignantly. Cassie leaned her head back far enough to shot him a cheeky wink before pulling his head down to her height. "It's okay, Harry. I happen to find you extremely sufferable."

Harry hummed happily against her lips, still in disbelief that the girl in his arms was his.

Knowing it would infuriate her and being prone to stirring up trouble, Harry trailed his lips from her mouth down to her neck and breathed, "Nice try. We're still going to dinner with your mum."

The Boy-Who-Lived found himself being shoved away with an irritated huff.

Not even that could keep the deliriously happy grin off his face.

* * *

Harry had informed George that he had never been in a more uncomfortable situation in his entire life. And, as the boy who had willingly gone to his own death, he felt that was saying a lot.

The two woman had been incredibly wary of each other, for good reason, he supposed. Harry had never been one to fill in the awkward silences as he was usually the cause of them. To her credit, Cassie had actually sat the whole meal through with any biting remarks. He knew they were perched on the tip of her tongue.

Naricissa Malfoy had been nothing but remorseful, and Harry could see that she was already chipping away at the walls Cassie had put up to keep her out. Perhaps, their relationship would never be what it should have been, but Harry was of the opinion that there was hope.

"They'll get there someday," Harry said to the small group. Hermione turned an encouraging smile to the blonde girl in currently listening to Charlie's latest wild story with unsuppressed awe. Draco, still unsettled by the fact that his once worst enemy was now the one responsible for his sister's happiness, offered a reluctant albeit appreciative smile. The two boys weren't yet friends, but much to their equal dismay, they were heading dangerously close to it. George liked to joke that they were both going soft.

Hermione couldn't help but take in the people before her with a beaming grin. Years of fear and heartache had melted away into the cozy scene in the heart of the Burrow. There had been a time when all she thought she wanted was to be accepted into the wizarding world. As she stood there among the most unlikely of friends and lovers, the young witch couldn't help but feel like she had been given so much more.

 _The End_

* * *

 _ **A/N: I know, I know, it's been a year! I have no excuse other than I'm winding down in my last year of college, and it's been rather intense. My stories had to be put on an obvious hold. I can't thank those of you who have followed and reviewed this story enough! It means so much to me. Thanks for putting up with my sporadic updates, I know I'm terrible. I know its not much, but I couldn't bear with leaving you guys hanging!**_

 _ **Thankyouthankyouthankyou =D**_


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